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CstRDIG^N 

a  Botiel 

1 

By 

Robert  IV.  Chambers 

\\ 

Author  of  "  The  King  in  Yellow  "  "Lorraine  " 
"  Ashes  of  Empire  "  "  The  Conspirators  " 

ILLUSTRATED 

SK» 

$ 

New  York  and  London 

Harper  &  Brothers  Publishers 
1902 

Copyright,  1901,  by  ROBERT  W.  CHAMBERS. 
All  rights  rejcrvtct. 


TO 

MY    FATHER 

AND 

MOTHER 


912812 


PEEFACE 


THOSE  who  read  this  romance  for  the  sake  of  what 
history  it  may  contain  will  find  the  histories  from 
which  I  have  helped  myself  more  profitable. 

Those  antiquarians  who  hunt  their  hobbies  through 
books  had  best  drop  the  trail  of  this  book  at  the  preface, 
for  they  will  draw  but  a  blank  covert  in  these  pages. 
Better  for  the  antiquarian  that  he  seek  the  mansion  of 
Sir  William  Johnson,  which  is  still  standing  in  Johns 
town,  New  York,  and  see  with  his  own  eyes  the  hatchet- 
scars  in  the  solid  mahogany  banisters  where  Thayenda- 
negea  hacked  out  polished  chips.  It  would  doubtless 
prove  more  profitable  for  the  antiquarian  to  thumb  those 
hatchet-marks  than  these  pages. 

But  there  be  some  simple  folk  who  read  romance  for 
its  own  useless  sake. 

To  such  quiet  minds,  innocent  and  disinterested,  I 
have  some  little  confidences  to  impart:  There  are  still 
trout  in  the  Kennyetto;  the  wild  ducks  still  splash  on 
the  Vlaie,  where  Sir  William  awoke  the  echoes  with  his 
flintlock ;  the  spot  where  his  hunting-box  stood  is  still 
called  Summer-House  Point;  and  huge  pike  in  golden- 
green  chain-mail  still  haunt  the  dark  depths  of  the  Vlaie 
water,  even  on  this  fair  April  day  in  the  year  of  our 
Lord  1900. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

CARDIGAN   AND   SILVER    HEELS  ...  Frontispiece 

"'SILVER  HEELS!'  i  STAMMERED" Facing  p.  98 

"'SET  FREE  THIS  MAN,  MY  BROTHER'" "  196 

"'THEY'VE     HIT     HIM,'     SAID     MOUNT,    RELOADING 

HASTILY" "  202 

"  'GREATHOUSE,'  WHISPERED  MOUNT" "  252 

"'DOWN  WE  WENT  TOGETHER'" "  314 

"'DEATH  TO  THE  HIGHWAYMEN'" "  400 

"'AND  SO  WE  WERE  WEDDED'"  .  "  492 


INTRODUCTION 


THIS  is  the  Land  of  the  Pioneer, 

Where  a  life-long  feud  was  healed ; 
Where  the  League  of  the  Men  whose  Coats  were  Red 
With  the  Men  of  the  Woods  whose  Skins  were  Red 

WTas  riveted,  forged,  and  sealed. 
Now,  by  the  souls  of  our  Silent  Dead, 
God  save  our  sons  from  the  League  of  Red ! 

Plough  up  the  Land  of  Battle 

Here  in  our  hazy  hills; 
Plough !  to  the  lowing  of  cattle ; 

Plough !  to  the  clatter  of  mills ; 
Follow  the  turning  furrows' 

Gold,  where  the  deep  loam  breaks, 
While  the  hand  of  the  harrow  burrows, 

Clutching  the  clod  that  cakes ; 
North  and  south  on  the  harrow's  line, 

Under  the  bronzed  pines'  boughs, 
The  silvery  flint-tipped  arrows  shine 

In  the  wake  of  a  thousand  ploughs ! 

Plough  us  the  Land  of  the  Pioneer, 
Where  the  buckskinned  rangers  bled; 

Where  the  Redcoats  reeled  from  a  reeking  field, 
And  a  thousand  Red  Men  fled; 

Plough  us  the  land  of  the  wolf  and  deer, 

The  land  of  the  men  who  laughed  at  fear, 
The  land  of  our  Martvred  Dead ! 


INTRODUCTION 

Here  where  the  ghost-flower,  blowing, 

Grows  from  the  bones  below, 
Patters  the  hare,  unknowing, 

Passes  the  cawing  crow: 
Shadows  of  hawk  and  swallow, 

Shadows  of  wind-stirred   wood, 
Dapple  each  hill  and  hollow, 

Here  where  our  dead  men  stood: 
Wild  bees  hum  through  the  forest  vines 

Where  the  bullets  of  England  hummed, 
And  the  partridge  drums  in  the  ringing  pines 

Where  the  drummers  of  England  drummed. 

This  is  the  Land  of  the  Pioneer, 

Where  a  life-long  feud  was  healed; 
Where  the  League  of  the  Men  whose  Coats  were  Red 
With  the  Men  of  the  Woods  whose  Skins  were  Red 

Was  riveted,  forged,  and  sealed. 
Now,  by  the  blood  of  our  Splendid  Dead, 
God  save  our  sons  from  the  League  of  Red ! 

R.  W.  C. 

BROAD  ALBIN. 


CARDIGAN 


CARDIGAN 


CHAPTER    I 

ON  the  1st  of  May,  1774,  the  anchor-ice,  which  for  so 
many  months  had  silver-plated  the  river's  bed  with 
frosted  crusts,  was  ripped  off  and  dashed  into  a  million  gush 
ing-  flakes  by  the  amber  outrush  of  the  springtide  flood. 

On  that  day  I  had  laid  my  plans  for  fishing  the  warm 
shallows  where  the  small  fry,  swarming  in  early  spring,  at 
tract  the  great  lean  fish  which  have  lain  benumbed  all  winter 
under  their  crystal  roof  of  ice. 

So  certain  was  I  of  a  holiday  undisturbed  by  school-room 
tasks  that  I  whistled  up  boldly  as  I  sat  on  my  cot  bed,  sort 
ing  hooks  according  to  their  sizes,  and  smoothing  out  my 
feather-flies  to  make  sure  the  moths  had  not  loosened  wing 
or  body.  It  was,  therefore,  with  misgiving  that  I  heard 
Peter  and  Esk  go  into  the  school-room,  stamping  their  feet 
to  make  what  noise  they  were  able,  and  dragging  their  horn 
books  along  the  balustrade. 

Now  we  had  no  tasks  set  us  for  three  weeks,  for  our  school 
master,  Mr.  Yost,  journeying  with  the  post  to  visit  his 
mother  in  Pennsylvania,  had  been  shot  and  scalped  at 
Eastertide  near  Fort  Pitt — probably  by  some  drunken  Dela 
ware. 

My  guardian,  Sir  William  Johnson,  who,  as  all  know,  was 
Commissioner  of  Indian  Affairs  for  the  Crown,  had  but 
recently  returned  from  the  upper  castle  with  his  secretary, 
Captain  Walter  Butler ;  and,  preoccupied  with  the  lamentable 

A  1 


CARDIGAN 

murder  of  Mr.  Yost,  had  loun-l  no  time  to  concern  himself 
with  us  or  our  affairs. 

However,  having  despatched  a  messenger  with  strings 
and  belts  to  remonstrate  with  the  sachems  of  the  Lenni- 
Lenape — they  being,  as  I  have  said,  suspected  of  the  mur 
der — we  discovered  that  Sir  William  had  also  written  to 
Albany  for  another  schoolmaster  to  replace  Mr.  Yost;  and 
it  gave  me,  for  one,  no  pleasure  to  learn  it,  though  it  did 
please  Silver  Heels,  who  wearied  me  with  her  devotion  to 
her  books. 

So,  hearing  Esk  and  fat  Peter  on  their  way  to  the  school 
room,  I  took  alarm,  believing  that  our  new  schoolmaster 
had  arrived;  so  seized  my  fish-rod  and  started  to  slip  out  of 
the  house  before  any  one  might  summon  me.  However,  I 
was  seen  in  the  hallway  by  Captain  Butler,  Sir  William's 
secretary,  and  ordered  to  find  my  books  and  report  to  him 
at  the  school-room. 

I,  of  course,  paid  no  heed  to  Mr.  Butler,  but  walked  de 
fiantly  down-stairs,  although  he  called  me  twice  in  his 
cold,  menacing  voice.  And  I  should  have  continued  tri 
umphantly  out  of  the  door  and  across  the  fields  to  the  river 
had  not  I  met  Silver  Heels  dancing  through  the  lower  hall 
way,  her  slate  and  pencil  under  her  arm,  and  loudly  sucking 
a  cone  of  maple  sugar. 

"  Oh,  Michael,"  she  cried,  "  you  don't  know !  Captain 
Butler  has  consented  to  instruct  us  until  the  new  school 
master  comes  from  Albany." 

"  Oh,  has  he?"  I  sneered.  "What  do  I  care  for  Mr.  But 
ler  ?  I'm  going  out !  Let  go  my  coat !" 

"No,  you're  not!  No,  you're  not!"  retorted  Silver  Heels, 
in  that  teasing  sing-song  which  she  loved  to  make  me  mad 
withal.  "  Sir  William  says  you  are  to  take  your  ragged  old 
book  of  gods  and  nymphs  and  be  diligent  lest  he  catch  you 
tripping!  So  there,  clumsy  foot!" — for  I  had  tried  to  trip 
her. 

"Who  told  you  that?"  I  answered,  sulkily,  snatching  at 
her  sugar. 

"Aunt  Molly;  she  set  me  to  seek  you.  So  now  who's 
going  fishing,  my  lord  ?" 

The  indescribable  malice  of  her  smile,  her  sing  -  song 

2 


CAKDIGAN 

mockery  as  she  stood  there  swaying  from  her  hips  and  lick 
ing  her  sugar-cone,  roused  all  the  sullen  obstinacy  in  me. 

"  If  I  go,"  said  I,  "  I  won't  study  my  books  anyway.  I'm 
too  old  to  study  with  you  and  Peter,  and  I  won't!  You  will 
see!" 

Sir  William's  favourite  ferret,  Vix,  with  muzzle  on,  came 
sneaking  along  the  wall,  and  I  grasped  the  lithe  animal  and 
thrust  it  at  Silver  Heels,  whereupon  she  kicked  my  legs  with 
her  moccasins,  which  did  not  hurt,  and  ran  up-stairs  like  a 
wild-cat. 

There  was  nothing  for  me  but  to  go  to  the  school-room.  I 
laid  my  rod  in  the  corner,  pocketed  the  ferret,  dragged  my 
books  from  under  the  library  table,  and  went  slowly  up  the 
stairs. 

At  sixteen  I  was  as  wilful  a  dunce  as  ever  dangled  feet  in 
a  school-room,  knowing  barely  sufficient  Latin  to  follow 
CaBsar  through  Gaul,  loathing  mathematics,  scorning  the 
poets,  and  even  obstinately  marring  my  pen-writing  with  a 
heavy  backward  stroke  in  defiance  of  Sir  William  and  poor 
Mr.  Yost. 

As  for  mythology,  my  tow-head  was  over-crammed  with 
kennel-lore  and  the  multitude  of  small  details  bearing  upon 
fishing  and  the  chase,  to  accommodate  the  classics. 

Destined,  against  my  will,  for  Dartmouth  College  by  my 
guardian,  who  very  well  understood  that  I  desired  to  be  a 
soldier,  I  had  resolutely  set  myself  .against  every  school-room 
accomplishment,  with  the  result  that,  at  sixteen,  I  presented 
an  ignorance  which  should  have  shamed  a  lad  of  ten,  but  did 
not  mortify  me  in  the  least. 

And  now,  to  my  dismay  and  rage,  Sir  William  had  set  me 
once  more  in  the  school-room — and  under  Mr.  Butler,  too! 

"  Master  Cardigan,"  said  Mr.  Butler  when  I  entered  the 
room,  "  Sir  William  desires  you  to  prepare  a  recitation  upon 
the  story  of  Proserpine." 

I  muttered  rebelliously,  but  jerked  my  mythology  from  the 
pile  of  books  and  began  to  thumb  the  leaves  noisily.  Pres 
ently  tiring  of  dingy  print,  I  moved  up  to  the  bench  where 
sat  the  children,  Peter  and  Esk,  a-conning  their  horn-books. 

Silver  Heels  pulled  a  face  at  me  behind  her  French  gram 
mar  book,  and  I  pinched  her  arm  smartly  for  her  impudence. 

3 


CARDIGAN 

Then,  casting  about  for  something  to  do,  I  remembered  the 
ferret  in  my  pocket,  and  dragged  it  out.  Removing  the  silver 
bit  I  permitted  the  ferret  to  bite  Peter's  tight  breeches,  not 
meaning  to  hurt  him;  but  Peter  screeched  and  Mr.  Butler 
birched  him  well,  knowing  all  the  while  it  was  no  fault  of 
Peter's ;  yet  such  was  the  nature  of  the  man  that,  when  angry, 
the  innocent  must  suffer  when  the  guilty  were  beyond  his 
wrath. 

I  had  remuzzled  the  ferret,  and  Peter  was  smearing  the 
tears  from  his  cheeks,  when  Sir  William  came  in,  very  angry, 
saying  that  Mistress  Molly  could  hear  us  in  the  nursery,  and 
that  the  infant  had  fallen  a-roaring  with  his  new  teeth. 

"  I  did  it,  sir,"  said  I,  "  and  Mr.  Butler  punished  Peter—" 

"  Silence !"  said  Sir  William,  sharply.  "  Put  that  ferret  out 
the  window!" 

"  The  ferret  is  your  best  one — Vix,"  I  answered.  "  She 
will  run  to  the  warren  and  we  shall  have  to  dig  her  out — " 

"  Pocket  her,  then,"  said  Sir  William,  hastily.  "  Who  gave 
you  leave  to  pouch  my  ferrets?  Eh?  What  has  a  ferret 
to  do  in  school?  Eh?  Idle  again?  Captain  Butler,  is  he 
idle?" 

"  He  is  a  dunce,"  said  Mr.  Butler,  with  a  shrug. 

"Dunce!"  echoed  Sir  William,  quickly.  "Why  should  he 
be  a  dunce  when  I  have  taught  him?  Granted  his  Latin 
would  shame  a  French  priest,  and  his  mathematics  sicken  a 
Mohawk,  have  I  not  read  the  poets  with  him?" 

Mr.  Butler,  a  gentleman  and  an  officer  of  rank  and  fort 
une,  whose  degraded  whims  led  him  now  to  instruct  youth 
as  a  pastime,  sharpened  a  quill  in  silence. 

"  Gad,"  muttered  Sir  William,  "  have  I  not  read  mythology 
with  him  till  I  dreamed  of  nymphs  and  satyrs  and  capered 
in  my  dreams  till  Mistress  Molly — but  that's  neither  here 
nor  there.  Micky!" 

"  Sir,"  I  replied,  sulkily. 

Then  he  began  to  question  me  concerning  certain  gods  and 
demi-gods,  and  I  gaped  and  floundered  as  though  I  were  no 
better  than  the  inky  rabble  ruled  over  by  Mr.  Butler. 

Sir  William  lounged  by  the  window  in  his  spurred  boots 
and  scarlet  hunting-coat,  and  smelling  foul  of  the  kennels, 
which,  God  knows,  I  do  not  find  unpleasant;  and  at  every 

4 


CARDIGAN 

slap  of  the  whip  over  his  boots,  he  shot  me  through  and 
through  with  a  question  which  I  had  neither  information  nor 
inclination  to  answer  before  the  grinning  small  fry. 

Now  to  be  hectored  and  questioned  by  Sir  William  like  a 
sniffling  lad  with  one  eye  on  the  birch  and  the  other  on  Mr. 
Butler,  did  not  please  me.  Moreover,  the  others  were  looking 
on — Esk  with  ink  on  his  nose,  Peter  in  tears,  a-licking  his 
lump  of  spruce,  and  that  wild-cat  thing,  Silver  Heels — 

With  every  question  of  Sir  William  I  felt  I  was  losing 
caste  among  them.  Besides,  there  was  Mr.  Butler  with  his 
silent,  deathly  laugh — a  laugh  that  never  reached  his  eyes — 
yellow,  changeless  eyes,  round  as  a  bird's. 

Slap  came  the  whip  on  the  polished  boot-tops,  and  Sir 
William  was  at  it  again  with  his  gods  and  goddesses : 

"  Who  carried  off  Proserpine  ?    Eh  ?" 

I  looked  sullenly  at  Esk,  then  at  Peter,  who  put  out  his 
tongue  at  me.  I  had  little  knowledge  of  mythology  beyond 
what  concerned  that  long-legged  goddess  who  loved  hunting 
— as  I  did. 

"Who  carried  off  Proserpine?"  repeated  Sir  William. 
"  Come  now,  you  should  know  that ;  come  now — a  likely  lass, 
Proserpine,  out  in  the  bush  pulling  cowslips,  bless  her  little 
fingers — when — ho! — up  pops — eh? — who,  lad,  who  in  Heav 
en's  name  ?" 

"  Plato !"  I  muttered  at  hazard. 

"  What !"  bawled  Sir  William. 

I  felt  for  my  underlip  and  got  it  between  my  teeth,  and 
for  a  space  not  another  word  would  I  speak,  although  that 
hollow  roar  began  to  sound  in  Sir  William's  voice  which  al 
ways  meant  a  scene.  His  whip,  too,  went  slap-slap!  on  his 
boots,  like  the  tail  of  a  big  dog  rapping  its  ribs. 

He  was  perhaps  a  violent  man,  Sir  William,  yet  none  out 
side  of  his  own  family  ever  suspected  it  or  do  now  believe  it, 
he  having  so  perfect  a  control  over  himself  when  he  chose. 
And  I  often  think  that  his  outbursts  towards  us  were  all  pre 
tence,  and  to  test  his  own  capacity  for  temper  lest  he  had  lost 
it  in  a  long  lifetime  of  self-control.  At  all  events,  none  of 
us  ever  were  the  worse  for  his  roaring,  although  it  frightened 
us  when  very  young;  but  we  soon  came  to  understand  that  it 
was  as  harmless  as  summer  thunder. 

5 


CARDIGAN 

"  Come,  sir !  Come,  Mr.  Cardigan !"  said  Sir  William, 
grimly.  "  Out  with  the  gentleman's  name — d'ye  hear  ?" 

It  was  the  first  time  in  my  life  that  Sir  William  had 
spoken  to  me  as  Mr.  Cardigan.  It  might  have  pleased  me  had 
I  not  seen  Mr.  Butler  sneer. 

I  glared  at  Mr.  Butler,  whose  face  became  shadowy  and 
loose,  without  expression,  without  life,  save  for  the  fixed 
stare  of  those  round  eyes. 

Slap !  went  Sir  William's  whip  on  his  boots. 

"  Damme !"  he  shouted,  in  a  passion,  "  who  carried  off  that 
slut  Proserpine  ?" 

"  The  Six  Nations,  for  aught  I  know !"  I  muttered,  dis 
respectfully. 

Sir  William's  face  went  redder  than  his  coat;  but,  as  it 
was  ever  his  habit  when  affronted,  he  stood  up  very  straight 
and  still ;  and  that  tribute  of  involuntary  silence  which  was 
always  paid  to  him  at  such  moments,  we  paid,  sitting  awed 
and  quiet  as  mice. 

"  Turn  the  children  free,  Captain  Butler,"  said  Sir  Will 
iam,  in  a  low  voice. 

Mr.  Butler  flung  back  the  door.  The  children  followed 
him,  Esk  bestowing  a  wink  upon  me,  Peter  grinning  and 
toeing  in  like  a  Devon  duck,  and  that  wild-cat  thing,  Silver 
Heels— 

"  You  need  not  wait,  Captain  Butler,"  said  Sir  William, 
politely. 

Mr.  Butler  retired,  leaving  the  door  swinging.  Out  in  the 
dark  hallway  I  fancied  I  could  still  see  his  shallow  eyes  shin 
ing.  I  may  have  been  mistaken.  But  all  men  know  now 
that  Walter  Butler  hath  eyes  that  see  as  well  by  dark  as  by 
the  light  of  the  sun;  and  none  know  it  so  well  as  the  people 
of  New  York  Province  and  of  Tryon  County. 

"  Michael,"  said  Sir  William,  "  go  to  the  slate." 

I  walked  across  the  dusty  school-room. 

"Chalk!"  shouted  Sir  William,  irritated  by  my  lagging 
steps. 

I  picked  up  a  lump  of  chalk,  balancing  it  in  my  palm  as 
boys  do  a  pebble  in  a  sling. 

Something  in  my  eyes  may  have  infuriated  Sir  William. 

The  next  moment  he  had  me  by  the  arm,  then  by  the  col- 

6 


CARDIGAN 

lar,  whip  whistling  like  the  chimney  wind — and  whistling 
quite  as  idly,  for  the  blow  never  fell. 

I  freed  myself;  he  made  no  effort  to  hold  me. 

"  Keep  your  lash  for  your  hounds !"  I  stammered. 

He  did  not  seem  to  hear  me,  but  I  planted  myself  in  a 
corner  and  cried  out  that  he  dare  not  lay  his  whip  on  me, 
which  was  a  shameful  thing  to  taunt  him  with,  for  he  had 
promised  me  never  to  lay  rod  to  me;  and  I  knew,  as  all  the 
world  knows,  that  Sir  William  Johnson  had  never  broken 
his  word  to  man  or  savage. 

But  still  I  faced  him,  now  hurling  safe  defiance,  now  mut 
tering  revenge,  until  the  scornful  rebuke  in  his  eyes  began 
to  shame  me  into  silence.  Tingling  already  with  self-con 
tempt,  I  dropped  my  head  a  little,  not  so  low  but  what  I 
could  see  Sir  William's  bulk  motionless  before  me. 

Presently  he  said,  as  though  to  himself :  "  If  the  boy's  a 
coward,  no  man  can  lay  the  sin  to  me." 

"  I  am  not  a  coward !"  I  burst  out,  all  a-quiver  again,  "  and 
I  ask  your  pardon,  sir,  for  daring  you  to  lay  whip  on  me, 
— knowing  your  promise !" 

Sir  William  scowled  at  me. 

"  To  prove  it,"  I  went  on,  desperately,  still  trembling  at 
the  word  "  coward,"  "  I  will  give  you  leave  to  drive  a  fish 
hook  through  my  hand  and  cut  it  out  with  your  knife;  and 
I'll  laugh  at  the  pain — as  did  that  Mohawk  lad  when  you  cut 
the  pike-hook  out  of  his  hand!" 

"  What  the  devil  have  I  to  do  with  your  fish-hook  and  your 
Mohawks !"  shouted  Sir  William,  with  a  hearty  oath. 

Mortified,  I  shrank  back  while  he  fumed  and  cracked  his 
whip  and  swore  I  was  doomed  to  folly  and  a  most  vicious 
future. 

"  You  assume  the  airs  of  a  man,"  he  roared — "  you  with 
your  sixteen  unbirched  years — you  with  your  gross  igno 
rance  and  grosser  impudence!  A  vicious  lad,  a  bad,  uiiduti- 
ful,  sullen  lad,  ever  at  odds  with  the  others,  never  diligent 
save  with  the  fishing-rod — a  lazy,  quarrelsome  rustic,  a  swag 
gering,  forest-running  fellow,  without  the  polish  or  the  pres 
ence  of  a  gentleman's  son !  Shame  on  you !" 

I  set  my  teeth  and  shut  both  eyes,  opening  one,  however, 
when  I  heard  him  move. 

7 


CARDIGAN 

"  I'll  polish  you  yet !"  he  said,  with  an  oath ;  "  I'll  polish 
you,  and  I'll  temper  you  like  the  edge  on  a  Mohawk  hatchet." 

"  One  red  belt,"  I  added,  impudently,  meaning  that  I  de 
fied  him. 

"  Which  you  will  cover  with  a  white  belt  before  the  fires  in 
this  hearth  are  dead,"  he  answered,  gulping  down  the  disrespect. 

He  laid  his  heavy  hand  on  the  door,  then,  turning,  he 
bade  me  write  with  the  chalk  on  the  slate  the  history  of 
Proserpine  in  verse,  and  await  his  further  pleasure. 

Sir  William  had  shut  the  school-room  door  upon  me.  I 
listened.  Had  he  locked  it  I  should  have  kicked  the  panelling 
out  into  the  hallway. 

Standing  there  alone  in  the  school-room  beside  the  great 
slate,  I  read  in  dull  anger  the  names  of  those  who,  tasks 
ended,  were  now  free  of  the  hateful  place;  here  Esk  had 
left  his  name  above  his  sum,  all  smears;  here  fat  Peter  had 
written  seven  times,  "  David  did  die  and  so  must  I." 

With  a  bit  of  buckskin  I  dusted  these  scrawls  from  the 
slate,  slowly,  for  I  was  not  yet  of  a  mind  to  begin  my  task. 

I  opened  the  window  behind  me.  A  sweet  spring  wind  was 
blowing.  Putting  up  my  nose  to  scent  it,  I  saw  the  sky 
bluer  than  a  heron's  egg,  and  a  little  white  cloud  a-sailing 
up  there  all  alone. 

That  year  the  snow  had  gone  out  in  April,  and  the  same 
day  the  blue-birds  flew  into  the  sheep-fold.  Now,  on  this 
second  day  of  May,  robins  were  already  running  over  the 
ground  below  the  school-room  window,  a-tilting  for  worms 
like  jack-snipes  along  the  creek. 

Folding  my  arms  to  lean  on  the  sill,  I  could  see  a  corner 
of  the  northern  block-house,  with  a  soldier  standing  guard 
below  in  the  sunshine,  and  I  peppered  him  well  with  spit- 
balls,  he  being  a  friend  of  mine. 

His  mystified  anger  brought  but  temporary  pleasure  to 
me.  Behind  me  lay  that  villanous  slate,  and  my  task  to 
deal  with  the  ravishment  of  that  silly  creature,  Proserpine 
— and  that,  too,  in  verse !  Had  it  been  my  long-legged  Diana 
with  her  view-halloo  and  her  hounds  and  shooting  her  arrows 
like  a  Huron  squaw  from  the  lakes !  But  no ! — my  business 
lay  with  a  puny,  cowslip-pulling  maid  who  had  strayed  from 
the  stockade  and  got  her  deserts,  too,  for  aught  I  know. 

8 


CARDIGAN 

Leaning  there  in  the  breezy  casement  I  tried  to  forget 
the  jade,  attentively  observing  the  birds  and  the  young  fruit- 
trees,  Sir  William's  pride.  Now  that  the  snow  had  melted  I 
could  see  where  mice,  working  under  the  crust  in  midwinter, 
had  fatally  girdled  two  young  apple-trees;  and  I  was  sorry, 
loving  apples  as  I  do. 

For  a  while  my  mind  was  occupied  in  devising  a  remedy 
against  girdling ;  then  the  distant  sparkle  of  the  river  caught 
my  eye,  and  straightway  my  thoughts  slipped  into  their 
natural  channel,  smoothly  as  the  river  flowed  there  in  the 
sunshine;  and  I  laid  my  plans  for  the  taking  of  that  bull 
trout  who  had  so  grossly  deceived  and  flouted  me  the  past 
year — ay,  not  only  me,  but  also  that  master  of  the  craft, 
Sir  William  himself. 

Thinking  of  Sir  William,  my  lagging  thoughts  drifted 
back  again  to  my  desk.  It  madded  me  to  pine  here,  making 
rhymes,  while  outside  the  sweet  wind  whispered :  "  Come  out, 
Michael — come  out  into  the  green  delight !" 

Now  Sir  William  had  bidden  me,  not  only  to  write  my 
verses,  but  also  to  bide  here  awaiting  his  good  pleasure. 
That  meant  he  would  return  by-and-by.  I  had  no  stomach 
for  further  quarrels.  Besides,  I  was  ashamed  of  my  dis 
respect  and  temper,  and  indeed,  selfish,  idle  beast  that  I  was, 
I  did  truly  love  Sir  William  because  I  knew  he  was  the 
greatest  man  of  our  times — and  because  he  loved  me. 

Resolved  at  last  to  accomplish  some  verses  as  proof  of  a 
contrite  and  diligent  spirit,  I  set  to  work;  and  this  is  what 
I  made : 

"  Proserpine  did  roam  the  hills, 
Intent  on  culling  dafl'ydills; 
Alas,  in  gleeful  girlish  sport, 
She  wandered  too  far  from  the  fort, 
Forgetting  that  no  belt  of  peace, 
Bound  the  people  of  Pluto  from  war  to  cease; 
Alas,  old  Pluto  lay  in  wait, 
To  ambush  all  who  stayed  out  late; 
And  with  a  dreadful  war-whoop  he 
Ran  after  the  doomed  Proserpine — " 

Absorbed  in  my  task,  and,  moreover,  considerably  affected 
by  the  piteous  plight  of  the  maid,  I  stepped  back  from  the 
slate  and  for  a  moment  conceived  a  generous  idea  of  intro- 

9 


CAKDIGAN 

ducing  somebody  to  rescue  Proserpine  and  leave  Pluto 
damaged — perhaps  scalped.  Reflection,  however,  dissuaded 
me  from  such  a  liberty,  not  that  I  found  the  anachronism  at 
all  discordant,  for,  living  all  my  life  in  a  family  where  Ind 
ians  were  oftener  seen  than  white  men,  my  hazy  notions 
concerning  classic  myths  were  inextricably  mixed  with  the 
reality  of  my  own  life,  and  were  also  gayly  coloured  by  the 
legends  I  learned  from  my  red  neighbours.  So,  lazy  dunce 
that  I  was,  with  but  a  fraction  of  my  attention  fixed  on  my 
tasks,  mythology  to  me  was  but  a  Graeco-Mohawk  medley  of 
jumbled  fables,  interesting  only  when  they  concerned  war 
or  the  chase. 

Still  I  did  not  feel  at  liberty  to  rescue  Proserpine  in  my 
verses  or  plump  a  war-arrow  into  Pluto.  Besides  I  knew  it 
would  enrage  Sir  William. 

As  I  stood  there,  breathing  hard,  resolved  to  finish  thtf 
wretched  maiden  quickly  and  let  the  metre  go  a-limping, 
behind  me  I  heard  the  door  stealthily  open,  and  I  knew  that 
long-legged  wild-cat  thing,  Silver  Heels,  had  crept  in,  her 
moccasins  making  no  noise. 

I  pretended  not  to  notice  her,  knowing  she  had  come  to 
taunt  me;  and,  for  a  space,  she  stood  behind  me,  very  still. 
Clearly,  she  was  reading  my  verses,  and  I  became  angry. 
Not  to  show  it,  I  made  out  to  whistle  and  to  draw  a  picture 
of  a  fish  on  the  slate.  Then  she  knew  I  had  seen  her  and 
laughed  hatefully. 

"  Oh,"  said  I,  "  if  there  is  somebody  come  a-prying,  it 
must  be  Silver  Heels!"  And  I  turned  around,  pretending 
amazement  at  the  justness  of  my  hazard. 

"  You  saw  me,"  she  answered,  disdainfully. 

"  It  is  your  hour  for  the  stocks,"  I  hinted. 

"  I  won't  go,"  she  retorted. 

To  secure  that  grace  of  carriage  and  elegance  of  presence 
necessary  for  a  young  lady  of  quality,  and  to  straighten  her 
back,  which  truly  was  as  straight  as  a  pine,  Sir  William  and 
Mistress  Molly  were  accustomed  to  strap  her  to  a  pine  plank 
and  lock  her  in  the  stocks  for  an  hour  at  noon,  forbidding 
Peter,  Esk,  and  me  to  tickle  the  soles  of  her  feet. 

It  was  noon  now;  I  could  hear  the  guard  changing  at  the 
north  block-house,  tramp !  tramp !  tramp !  across  the  stony  way. 

10 


CAEDIGAN 

"If  you  don't  go  to  the  stocks  now,"  I  said,  "you'll  be 
sorry  when  you  do  go." 

"  If  you  tickle  my  feet,  you  great  booby,  I'll  tell  Sir 
William,"  she  retorted,  balancing  defiantly  from  one  heel  to 
the  other. 

"  Will  you  go,  Silver  Heels?"  I  insisted. 

"  My  name  isn't  Silver  Heels,"  she  observed,  still  coolly 
tilting  back  and  forth  on  heels  and  toes.  tk  Call  me  by  my 
right  name  and  perhaps  I'll  go — and  perhaps  I  won't.  So 
there,  Mr.  Micky  Dunce !" 

"  If  I  call  you  Felicity  Warren,  will  you  go  ?"  I  inquired, 
cautiously. 

"  There !  you  have  called  me  Felicity  Warren !"  she  cried 
in  triumph. 

"I  didn't,"  said  I,  in  a  temper;  "I  only  said  that  there 
was  such  a  person.  But  you  are  not  that  person !  Anyway, 
you  toe  in  like  a  Mohawk.  Anyway,  you're  half  wild-cat,  half 
Mohawk." 

"It's  a  lie!"  she  flashed;  "I'm  all  white  to  the  bones  of 
my  body!" 

It  was  true.  Indeed,  she  was  kin  to  Sir  William  and  niece 
to  Sir  Peter  Warren,  but,  to  torment  her,  we  feigned  to  be 
lieve  her  one  of  Mistress  Molly's  brood,  half  Mohawk;  and 
it  madded  her.  Besides,  had  not  the  Mohawks  dubbed  her 
Silver  Heels,  a  year  ago,  when,  with  naked  flying  feet,  she 
had  beaten  us  all  in  the  foot-race  before  -Sir  William  and 
half  the  people  of  the  Six  Nations  ? 

The  prize  had  been  a  Barlow  jack-knife,  which,  before 
the  race,  I  had  looked  upon  as  mine.  Besides,  I  had  rashly 
given  my  old  knife  to  Esk,  and  that  left  me  without  a  blade 
to  notch  whistles. 

"  You  are  a  Mohawk,"  I  said,  resentfully ;  "  also  you  are 
a  cat-child  beneath  notice.  When  you  are  hungry  you  cry, 
*  Miau !  Eso  cautfore !' — like  Peter." 

"  I  don't !"  she  said,  stamping  her  moccasin. 

"  Anyway,"  said  I,  disdaining  to  torment  her  further,  "  the 
guard  is  changed  these  ten  minutes,  and  Sir  William  will 
come  to  find  you  here  a-prying.  Esogee  cadagcariax"  I 
added,  incautiously. 

"  Who  is  Mohawk,  now !"  she  cried,  clapping  her  hands. 

11 


CARDIGAN 

"Bah,  Mister  Micky,  it  is  spoon-meat  you  require  to  make 
you  run  the  faster  after  jack-knives !" 

This  outrageous  taunt  ruffled  me,  the  more  for  her  laughter. 
I  attempted  to  hold  my  head  in  the  air  and  look  down  at  the 
presumptuous  child,  but  it  appeared  she  had  grown  very  fast 
in  the  past  months  since  the  race,  and  I  was  disturbed  to  find 
her  eyes  already  on  a  straight  line  with  mine,  though  she  was 
but  fifteen  and  I  sixteen. 

"  I'm  as  high  as  you,"  she  said. 

"  I  can  jump  and  touch  the  ceiling,"  said  I ;  and  did  so. 

She  strove  in  vain,  then  called  me  dunce,  and  vowed  what 
brains  I  had  were  in  my  feet.  For  that,  and  because  she 
pushed  me,  I  seized  the  chalk  and  wrote  high  on  the  slate : 

"  Silver  Heels  is  Mohock  she  toes  in  like  ducks." 

She  caught  up  the  buckskin  to  wipe  out  the  taunt,  jostling 
me  till  the  ferret  in  my  pocket  jumped  out  and  ran  round 
and  round  the  room. 

I  jostled  her;  then  she  gave  me  a  blow  and  a  quick  shove, 
whereupon  I  stumbled,  pulling  her  to  the  floor  to  rub  her 
face  with  chalk.  She  twisted  and  turned,  kicking  and  strik 
ing  while  I  rubbed  chalk  into  her  skin,  till  of  a  sudden  she 
coiled  up  and  bit  me  clean  through  the  hand. 

I  was  on  my  feet  with  a  bound;  she  also,  all  white  in  the 
face  and  her  eyes  aflame. 

The  blood  began  welling  up,  running  into  my  palm  and 
along  the  fingers  to  the  floor.  At  that  same  instant  I  heard 
the  door  of  the  nursery  open,  and  I  knew  that  Sir  William 
was  coming  through  the  hall  to  the  school-room. 

From  instinct  I  thrust  my  wounded  hand  into  my  breeches- 
pocket. 

"Don't  tell!"  whispered  Silver  Heels,  in  a  fright;  "don't 
tell — and  here  is  the  jack-knife." 

She  thrust  it  into  my  right  hand,  then  sped  across  the 
floor  to  the  open  window,  and  over  the  sill,  dropping  light 
as  a  cat  on  the  grass  below. 

My  first  impulse  was  to  follow  her  and  give  her  such  a 
spank  as  Mistress  Molly  administered  the  day  she  trounced 
her  for  pushing  Peter  into  the  creek.  However,  it  was  al 
ready  too  late ;  Sir  William  came  quickly  along  the  hall,  and 
I  had  scarce  time  to  step  to  the  slate  when  he  marched  in. 

12 


CARDIGAN 

Sir  William  had  changed  his  clothing  for  the  buckskin 
hunting-shirt  and  breeches  which  he  was  accustomed  to  wear 
when  angling.  He  carried,  too,  that  light,  seasoned  rod,  fash 
ioned  for  him  by  Thayendanegea,  and  on  his  bosom  he  wore 
a  bouquet  of  gayly  coloured  feather-flies,  made  by  Mistress 
Molly  during  the  winter. 

He  approached  the  slate  whereon  my  verses  stared  white 
and  unfinished;  and  at  first  his  brows  knitted  and  he  said, 
"  Fudge,  fudge,  fudge !"  Then  of  a  sudden  he  sat  down  on 
the  bench,  clapping  his  hand  to  his  brow. 

"  Oh  Lord !"  said  he,  and  fell  a-laughing,  while  I,  hot, 
ashamed,  and  a  little  dizzy,  my  breeches-pocket  being  full 
of  blood,  gnawed  my  lips  and  glowered  askance. 

"  The  Lord's  will  be  done,"  said  he,  taking  breath.  "  Who 
am  I  to  ordain,  when  He  who  fashioned  yon  tow-head  de 
signed  it  to  hold  neither  Latin  nor  the  classics  ?" 

"  It  pleases  you  to  laugh,  sir,"  I  muttered. 

"  Pleases  me !  Pleases  me,  quotha !  Lad,  it  stabs  me  like 
a  French  dirk,  nor  can  I  guard  the  thrust  in  tierce!  I  have 
been  wrong.  A  friar  is  not  made  with  a  twisted  rope  nor  a 
man  hanged  with  words.  If  you  are  not  born  a  scholar,  'twas 
the  mint-mark  I  could  not  read  aright ;  and  no  blame  to  you, 
lad,  no  blame  to  you.  Micky  boy!  Shall  we  leave  Caesar  to 
go  marching  with  his  impedimenta  and  his  Tenth  Legion? 
Shall  we  consign  the  hypothenuse  of  all  triangles  to  those 
who  mend  pens  from  the  quills  of  wild-geese  which  better 
men  have  brought  down  with  a  single  ball  ?" 

I  was  regarding  him  wildly,  uncertain  of  his  meaning. 

"  Shall  we,"  cried  Sir  William,  heartily,  "  bid  the  nymphs 
and  dryads  farewell  forever,  lad,  and  save  our  learning  for 
Roderick  Random  and  a  bowl  of  cider  and  the  bitter  nights 
of  December?" 

His  meaning  was  dawning  upon  me  slowly,  for  what  with 
the  pain  of  my  hand  and  the  dizziness,  I  was  perhaps  more 
stupid  than  usual. 

"  No,"  said  Sir  William,  with  a  thump  of  his  fist  on  his 
knee,  "  the  college  which  my  Lord  Dartmouth  has  endowed 
is  a  haven  for  those  who  seek  it,  not  a  prison  for  men  to  be 
driven  to." 

He  paused. 

13 


CARDIGAN 

"  I  should  have  sought  it,"  he  said,  dropping  his  head. 
"  No  wilderness,  no  wintry  terrors,  neither  French  scalping 
parties  nor  the  savages  of  all  the  Canadas  could  have  kept 
me  from  instruction  had  I,  in  my  youth,  been  favoured  by 
the  opportunity  I  offer  you." 

I  gazed  at  him  in  silence  while  the  blood,  overrunning 
my  leather  pocket,  ran  down  to  my  knee-buckles. 

"  I  was  poor,  without  means,  without  counsel,  save  for  the 
letters  Sir  Peter  Warren  wrote  me.  I  traded  for  my  daily 
bread;  I  read  Ovid  by  lighted  pine  splinters;  I  worked — God 
knows  I  worked  my  flesh  to  the  bone." 

He  sat,  fingering  the  bunch  of  scarlet  feather-flies  in  his 
breast. 

"  Our  Lord  gives  us  according  to  our  needs — when  we  take 
it"  he  said,  without  irreverence.  "  I  could  have  gone  to 
England,  to  Oxford;  I  had  saved  enough.  I  did  neither;  I 
did  not  take  the  instruction  I  wished  for,  and  God  did  not 
teach  me  Greek  in  my  dreams,"  he  added,  bitterly. 

The  blood  was  now  stealing  down  my  stocking  towards  my 
shoe.  I  turned  the  leg  so  he  could  not  observe  it. 

"  Come,  lad,"  he  said,  brightening  up ;  "  learning  lies  not 
always  between  thumbed  leaves.  I  only  wish  that  you  bear 
yourself  modestly  and  nobly  through  the  world;  that  you 
keep  faith  with  men,  that  your  word  once  given  shall  never 
be  withdrawn. 

"  This  is  the  foundation.  It  includes  courage.  Further 
than  that,  I  desire  you,  once  a  purpose  formed  and  a  course 
set,  to  steer  fearlessly  to  the  goal. 

"  I  know  you  to  be  brave  and  honest ;  I  know  you  to  be 
a  very  Mohawk  in  the  forest;  I  believe  you  to  be  merciful 
and  tender  underneath  that  boy's  thoughtless  and  cruel 
hide. 

"As  for  learning,  I  can  do  no  more  for  you  than  I  have 
done  and  have  offered  to  do.  If  it  pleases  you,  you  may  go 
to  England,  and  learn  the  arts,  bearing,  and  deportment 
you  can  never  acquire  here  with  us.  No?  Well,  then,  stay 
with  us.  I  want  you,  Micky.  We  Irish  are  fond  of  each 
other — and  I  am  an  old  man  now — I  am  nigh  sixty  years, 
Michael — sixty  years  of  battle.  I  would  be  glad  of  rest — 
with  those  I  love." 

14 


CARDIGAN 

My  heart  was  very  soft  now.  I  looked  at  Sir  William  with 
an  affection  I  had  never  before  understood. 

"  There  is  one  last  thing  I  wish  to  add,"  he  said,  gravely, 
almost  sadly.  "  Perhaps  I  may  again  refer  to  it — but  I  pray 
that  it  may  not  be  necessary." 

I  sat  up  and  rubbed  my  eyes  to  clear  them  from  the  sickly 
faintness  which  stole  upward  from  my  throbbing  hand. 

"  It  is  this,"  he  continued,  in  a  low  voice.  "  If  it  evei' 
comes  to  you  to  choose  between  his  Majesty  our  King  and 
— and  your  native  land — which  God  forbid! — go  to  your 
closet  and  kneel  down,  and  stay  there  on  your  knees,  hours, 
days! — until  you  have  learned  your  own  heart.  Then — then 
— God  go  with  you,  Michael  Cardigan." 

He  rose,  and  his  face  was  years  older.  Slowly  the  colour 
came  back  into  his  cheeks;  he  fumbled  with  the  brass-work 
on  his  fish-rod,  then  smiled. 

"  That  is  all,"  he  said;  "  let  Pluto  chase  Proserpine  to  hell, 
lad;  and  a  devilish  good  place  they  say  it  is  for  those  who 
like  it!  Where  is  that  ferret?  What!  Running  about  un 
muzzled!  Hey!  Vix!  Vix!  Come  here,  little  reptile!" 

"  I'll  catch  her,  sir,"  said  I,  stumbling  forward. 

But  as  I  laid  my  hand  on  Vix  the  floor  rose  and  struck 
me,  and  there  I  lay  sprawling  and  senseless,  with  the  blood 
running  over  the  floor ;  and  Sir  William,  believing  me  bitten 
by  the  ferret,  pouched  the  poor  beast  and  lifted  me  to  a 
bench. 

He  must  have  seen  my  hand,  however,  for,  when  a  cup  of 
cold  water  set  me  spluttering  and  blinking,  I  found  my 
hand  tied  up  in  Sir  William's  handkerchief  and  Sir  William 
himself  eying  me  strangely. 

"  How  came  that  wound  ?"  he  said,  bluntly. 

I  could  not  reply — or  would  not. 

He  asked  me  again  whether  the  ferret  bit  me,  and  I  was 
tempted  to  say  yes.  Treachery  was  abhorrent  to  me ;  I  hated 
Silver  Heels,  but  could  not  betray  her,  and  it  was  easy  to 
clap  the  blame  on  Vix. 

"Sir?"  I  stammered. 

"  I  asked  what  bit  you,"  he  said,  icily. 

I  tried  to  say  Vix,  but  the  lie,  too,  stuck  in  my  throat. 

"  I  cannot  tell  you,"  I  muttered. 

15 


CARDIGAN 

"  Then,"  said  Sir  William,  with  a  strange  smile  of  relief, 
"I  shall  not  force  you,  Michael.  May  I  honourably  ask  you 
how  you  come  by  this  jack-knife  ?" 

I  shook  my  head.    My  face  was  on  fire. 

"  Very  well,"  he  said.  "  Only  remember  that  you  are  a 
man,  now — a  man  of  sixteen,  and  that  I  have  to-day  treated 
you  as  a  man.  and  shall  continue.  And  remember  that  a 
man's  first  duty  is  to  protect  the  weaker  sex,  and  his  second 
duty  is  to  endure  from  them  all  taunts,  caprice,  and  torments 
without  revenge.  It  is  a  hard  lesson  to  learn,  Micky,  and 
only  the  true  and  gallant  gentleman  can  ever  learn  it." 

He  smiled,  then  said: 

"  Pray  find  our  little  Silver  Heels  and  return  to  her  the 
jack-knife,  which  was  her  wampum-belt  of  faith  in  the 
honour  of  a  gentleman." 

And  so  he  walked  away,  smoothing  the  fur  of  the  red-eyed 
ferret  against  his  breast. 


CHAPTER   II 

WHEN  Sir  William  left  me  in  the  school-room,  he  left 
a  lad  of  sixteen  puffed  up  in  a  glow  of  pride.  To  be 
treated  no  longer  as  a  fractious  child — to  be  received  at  last 
as  a  man  among  men ! 

And  what  would  Esk  say?  And  Silver  Heels,  poor  little 
mouse  harnessed  in  the  stocks  below  ? 

I  had  entered  the  school-room  that  morning  a  lazy,  sullen, 
defiant  lad,  heavy-hearted,  with  chronic  resentment  against 
the  discipline  of  those  who  had  sent  me  into  a  hateful  trap 
from  the  windows  of  which  I  could  see  the  young,  thirsty 
year  quaffing  spring  sunshine.  Now  I  was  free  to  leave  the 
accursed  trap  forever,  a  man  of  discretion,  responsible  be 
fore  men,  exacting  from  other  men  the  same  courtesies,  at 
tentions,  and  considerations  which  I  might  render  them. 

What  a  change  had  come  to  me,  all  in  one  brief  May  morn 
ing!  As  I  stood  there,  resting  my  bandaged  hand  in  the 
palm  of  the  other,  looking  about  me  to  realize  the  fortune 
which  set  my  veins  tingling,  a  great  tide  of  benevolent  con 
descension  for  the  others  swept  over  me,  a  ripple  of  pity  and 
good-will  for  the  hapless  children  whose  benches  lay  in  a  row 
before  me. 

I  no  longer  detested  Silver  Heels.  I  walked  on  tiptoe  to 
her  bench.  There  lay  her  slate  and  slate-pen;  upon  it  I  read 
a  portion  of  the  longer  catechism.  There,  too,  lay  her  quill 
and  inky  horn  and  a  foolscap  book  sewed  neatly  and  marked : 

FELICITY  WARREN 
1774 

HER  BOOKE. 

Poor  child,  doomed  for  years  still  to  steep  her  little  fingers 
in  ink-powder  while,  with  the  powder  I  should  require  here- 
B  17 


CAKDIGAN 

after,  I  expected  to  write  fiercer  tales  on  living  hides  with 
plummets  cast  in  bullet-moulds! 

Cramped  with  importance,  I  cast  a  contemptuous  eye  upon 
my  poem  which  embellished  the  great  slate,  and  scoured  it 
partly  out  with  the  buckskin. 

"  My  books,"  said  I,  to  myself,  "  I  will  bestow  upon  Silver 
Heels  and  Esk ;"  and  I  carried  out  my  philanthropic  impulse, 
piling  speller,  reader,  and  arithmetic  on  Esk's  bench;  my 
Ccesar,  my  pair  of  globes,  my  compass,  and  my  algebra  I  laid 
with  Silver  Heels's  copy-book,  first  writing  in  the  books,  with 
some  malice : 


SILVER  HEELS    HER  GIFT  BOOKE  FROM 

MICHAEL  CARDIGAN 

BE   DILIGENT   AND  OF   GOOD   THRIFT 

KNOWLEDGE  IS  POWER. 


For  fat  Peter,  because  I  allowed  Vix  to  bite  his  tight 
breeches,  I  left  a  pile  of  jacks  beside  his  horn-book,  namely, 
a  slate-pen,  three  mended  quills,  a  birchen  box  of  ink-powder, 
a  screw  to  trade  with,  two  tops  and  an  alley,  pumice,  a  rule, 
and  some  wax. 

Peter,  though  duck-limbed  and  half  Mohawk,  wrote  very 
well  in  the  Boston  style,  and  could  even  copy  in  the  Lettre 
Frisee — a  poor  art  in  some  repute,  but  smelling  to  my  nose  of 
French  flummery  and  deceit. 

Having  bestowed  these  gifts  with  a  light  heart,  I  walked 
slowly  around  the  room,  and  I  fear  my  walk  was  somewhat 
a  strut. 

I  knew  my  small  head  was  all  swelled  with  vain  imagin 
ings;  I  saw  myself  in  a  flapped  coat  and  lace,  fingering  the 
hilt  of  a  sword  at  my  hip,  saluted  by  the  sentries  and  the 
militia;  I  saw  myself  riding  with  Sir  William  as  his  deputy; 
I  heard  him  say,  "  Mr.  Cardigan,  the  enemy  are  upon  us ! 
We  must  fly !"— and  I :  "  Sir  William,  fear  nothing.  The 
day  is  our  own!"  And  I  saw  a  lad  of  sixteen,  with  sword 
pointing  upward  and  one  hand  twisted  into  Pontiac's  scalp- 
lock,  smile  benignly  upon  Sir  William,  who  had  cast  himself 

18 


CARDIGAN 

upon  my  breast,  protesting  that  I  had  saved  the  army,  and 
that  the  King  should  hear  of  it. 

Then,  unbidden,  the  apparition  of  Mr.  Butler  rose  into  my 
vain  dreaming,  and,  though  I  am  no  prophet,  nor  can  I  claim 
the  gift  of  seeing  behind  the  veil,  yet  I  swear  that  Walter 
Butler  appeared  to  me  all  aflame  and  bloody  with  scalps 
bunched  at  his  girdle — and  the  scalps  were  not  of  the  red 
men! 

Now  my  imagination  smoking  into  fire,  I  saw  myself  dog 
ging  Mr.  Butler  with  firelock  a-trail  and  knife  loosened,  on! 
on !  through  fathomless  depths  of  forest  and  by  the  still  deeps 
of  shadowy  lakes,  fording  the  roaring  tumble  of  rivers, 
swimming  silent  pools  as  otters  swim,  but  tracking  him,  ever 
tracking  Captain  Butler  by  the  scent  of  his  reeking  scalps. 

There  was  a  dew  on  my  eyebrows  as  I  waked  into  sense. 
Yet  again  I  fell  straightway  to  imagining  the  glories  of  my 
young  future.  Truly  I  painted  life  in  cloying  colours;  and 
always,  when  I  accomplished  gallant  deeds,  there  stood  Silver 
Heels  to  observe  me,  and  to  marvel,  and  to  stamp  her  little 
moccasins  in  vexation  that  I,  the  pride  and  envy  of  all  men, 
applauded,  courted,  nay,  worshipped — I,  the  playmate  she  had 
in  her  silly  ignorance  flouted,  now  stood  so  far  beyond  her 
that  she  dared  not  twitch  the  skirt  of  my  coat  nor  whisper, 
"  Sir  Michael,  pray  condescend  to  notice  one  who  passes  her 
entire  life  in  admiring  your  careless  exploits." 

Perhaps  I  would  smile  at  her — yes,  I  certainly  should  speak 
to  her — not  with  familiarity.  But  I  would  be  magnanimous ; 
she  should  receive  gifts,  spoils  from  wars,  and  I  would  select 
a  suitable  husband  for  her  from  the  officers  of  my  household 
who  adored  me !  No,  I  would  not  be  hasty  concerning  a  hus 
band.  That  would  be  foolish,  for  Silver  Heels  must  remain 
heart-whole  and  fancy-free  to  concentrate  her  envious  ad 
miration  upon  me. 

In  a  sort  of  ecstasy  I  paraded  the  school-room,  the  splen 
dour  of  my  visions  dulling  eyes  and  ears,  and  it  was  not  until 
he  had  called  me  thrice  that  I  observed  Mr.  Butler  standing 
within  the  doorway. 

The  unwelcome  sight  cleared  my  brains  like  a  dash  of 
spring-water  in  the  face. 

"  It  is  one  o'clock,"  said  Mr.  Butler,  "  and  time  for  your 

19 


CARDIGAN 

carving   lesson.     Did   you   not    hear    the    bugles    from   the 
forts?" 

"  I  heard  nothing,  sir,"  said  I,  giving  him  a  surly  look, 
which  he  returned  with  that  blank  stare  of  the  eyes,  notice 
able  in  hawks  and  kites  and  foul  night  birds  surprised  by 
light. 

"  Sir  William  dines  early,"  he  said,  as  I  followed  him 
through  the  dim  hallway,  past  the  nursery,  and  down  stairs. 
"  If  he  has  to  wait  your  pleasure  for  his  slice  of  roast,  you 
will  await  his  pleasure  for  the  remainder  of  the  day  in  the 
school-room." 

"It  is  not  true!"  I  said,  stopping  short  in  the  lower  hall 
way.  "  I  am  free  of  that  ratty  pit  forever !  And  of  the  old 
ferret,  too,"  I  added,  insolently. 

"  By  your  favour,"  said  Mr.  Butler,  "  may  I  ask  whether 
your  erudition  is  impairing  your  bodily  health,  that  you  leave 
school  so  early  in  life,  Master  Cardigan  V 

"  If  you  were  a  real  schoolmaster,"  said  I,  hotly,  "  I  would 
answer  you  with  a  kennel  lash,  but  you  are  an  officer  and 
a  gentleman."  And  in  a  low  voice  I  bade  him  go  to  the  devil 
at  his  convenience. 

"  One  year  more  and  I  could  call  you  out  for  this,"  he 
said,  staring  at  me. 

"You  can  do  it  now!"  I  retorted,  angrily,  raising  myself 
a  little  on  my  toes. 

Suddenly  all  the  hatred  and  contempt  I  had  so  long  choked 
back  burst  out  in  language  I  now  blush  for.  I  called  him  a 
coward,  a  Huron,  a  gentleman  with  the  instincts  of  a  peda 
gogue.  I  heaped  abuse  upon  him;  I  dared  him  to  meet  me; 
nay,  I  challenged  him  to  face  me  with  rifle  or  sword,  when 
and  where  he  chose.  And  all  the  time  he  stood  staring  at  me 
with  that  deathly  laugh  which  never  reached  his  eyes. 

"  Measure  me !"  I  said,  venomously ;  "  I  am  as  tall  as  you, 
lacking  an  inch.  I  am  a  man !  This  day  Sir  William  freed 
me  from  that  spider-web  you  tenant,  and  now  in  Heaven's 
name  let  us  settle  that  score  which  every  hour  has  added  to 
since  I  first  beheld  you !" 

"  And  my  honour  ?"  he  asked,  coldly. 

"  What  ?"  I  stammered.  "  I  ask  you  to  maintain  it  with 
rifle  or  rapier !  Blood  scours  tarnished  names  1" 

20 


CARDIGAN 

"  Not  your  blood,"  he  said,  with  a  stealthy  glance  at  the 
dining-room  door ;  "  not  the  blood  of  a  boy.  That  would  rust 
my  honour.  Wait,  Master  Cardigan,  wait  a  bit.  A  year  runs 
like  a  spotted  fawn  in  cherry-time !" 

"  You  will  not  meet  me?"  I  blurted  out,  mortified. 

"  In  a  year,  perhaps,"  he  said,  absently,  scarcely  looking  at 
me  as  he  spoke. 

Then  from  within  the  dining-hall  came  Sir  William's 
roar :  "  Body  o'  me !  Am  I  to  be  kept  here  at  twiddle-thumbs 
for  lack  of  a  carver !" 

I  stepped  back  in  an  instant,  bowing  to  Mr.  Butler. 

"  I  will  be  patient  for  a  year,  sir,"  I  said.  And  so  opened 
the  door  while  he  passed  me,  and  into  the  dining-hall. 

"  I  am  sorry,  sir,"  said  I,  but  Sir  William  cut  me  short 
with : 

"  Damnation,  sir !    I  am  asking  a  blessing !" 

So  I  buried  my  nose  in  my  hollowed  hand  and  stood  up, 
very  still. 

Having  given  thanks  in  a  temper,  Sir  William's  frown  re 
laxed  and  he  sat  down  and  tucked  his  finger-cloth  under  his 
neck  with  an  injured  glance  at  me. 

"Zounds!"  he  said,  mildly;  "hell  hath  no  fury  like  a  fish 
erman  kept  waiting.  Captain  Butler,  bear  me  out." 

"  I  am  no  angler,"  said  Mr.  Butler,  in  his  deadened  voice. 

"  That  is  true,"  observed  Sir  William,  as  though  condoling 
with  Mr.  Butler  for  a  misfortune  not  his  fault.  "  Perhaps 
some  day  the  fever  may  scorch  you — like  our  young  kinsman 
Micky— eh,  lad?" 

I  said,  "  Perhaps,  sir,"  with  eyes  on  the  smoking  joint  be 
fore  me.  It  was  Sir  William's  pleasure  that  I  learn  to  carve ; 
and,  in  truth,  I  found  it  easy,  save  for  the  carving  of  a  goose 
or  of  those  wild-ducks  we  shot  on  the  great  Vlaie. 

We  were  but  four  to  dine  that  day:  Sir  William,  Mr.  But 
ler,  Silver  Heels,  and  myself.  Mistress  Molly  remained  in 
the  nursery,  where  were  also  Peter  and  Esk,  inasmuch  as 
they  slobbered  and  fouled  the  cloth,  and  so  fed  in  the  play 
room. 

Colonel  Guy  Johnson  remained  at  Detroit,  Captain  John 
Johnson  was  on  a  mission  to  Albany,  Thayendanegea  in 
Quebec,  and  Colonel  Claus,  with  his  lady,  had  gone  to  Castle 

21 


CARDIGAN 

Cumberland.  There  were  no  visiting  officers  or  Indians  at 
Johnson  Hall  that  week,  and  our  small  company  seemed  lost 
in  the  great  dining-hall. 

Having  carved  the  juicy  joint,  the  gilly  served  Sir  William, 
then  Mr.  Butler,  then  Silver  Heels,  whom  I  had  scarcely  no 
ticed,  so  full  was  I  of  my  quarrel  with  Mr.  Butler.  Now,  as 
Saunders  laid  her  plate,  I  gave  her  a  look  which  meant,  "  I 
did  not  tell  Sir  William,"  whereupon  she  smiled  at  her  plate 
and  clipped  a  spoonful  from  a  dish  of  potatoes. 

"  Good  appetite  and  good  health,  sir,"  said  I,  raising  my 
wine-glass  to  Sir  William. 

"  Good  health,  my  lad !"  said  Sir  William,  heartily. 

Glasses  were  raised  again  and  compliments  said,  though 
my  face  was  sufficient  to  sour  the  Madeira  in  Mr.  Butler's 
glass. 

"  Your  good  health,  Michael,"  said  Silver  Heels,  sweetly. 

I  pledged  her  with  a  patronizing  amiability  which  made  her 
hazel-gray  eyes  open  wide. 

Now,  coxcomb  that  I  was,  I  sat  there,  dizzied  by  my  new 
dignity,  yet  carefully  watching  Sir  William  to  imitate  him, 
thinking  that,  as  I  was  now  a  man,  I  must  observe  the  car 
riage,  deportment,  and  tastes  of  men. 

When  Sir  William  declined  a  dish  of  jelly,  I  also  waved 
it  away,  though  God  knew  I  loved  jellies. 

When  Sir  William  drank  the  last  of  the  winter's  ale,  I 
shoved  aside  my  small-beer  and  sent  for  a  mug. 

"  It  will  make  a  humming-top  of  your  head,"  said  Sir 
William.  "  Stick  to  small-beer,  Micky." 

Mortified,  I  tossed  off  my  portion,  and  was  very  careful  not 
to  look  at  Silver  Heels,  being  hot  in  the  face. 

Mr.  Butler  and  Sir  William  spoke  gravely  of  the  discon 
tent  now  rampant  in  the  town  of  Boston,  and  of  Captain  John 
Johnson's  mission  to  Albany.  I  listened  greedily,  sniffing  for 
news  of  war,  but  understood  little  of  their  discourse  save 
what  pertained  to  the  Indians. 

Some  mention,  indeed,  was  made  of  rangers,  but,  having 
always  associated  militia  and  rangers  with  war  on  the  Ind 
ians,  I  thought  little  of  what  they  discussed.  I  even  forgot 
my  new  dignity,  and  secretly  pinched  a  bread  crumb  into  the 
shape  of  a  little  pig  which  I  showed  to  Silver  Heels.  She 

22 


CAKDIGAN 

thereupon  pinched  out  a  dog  with  hound's  ears  for  me  to 
admire. 

I  was  roused  by  Sir  William's  voice  in  solemn  tones  to  Mr. 
Butler :  "  Now,  God  forbid  I  should  live  to  see  that,  Captain 
Butler !"  and  I  pricked  up  my  ears  once  more,  but  made 
nothing  of  what  followed,  save  that  there  were  certain  dis 
loyal  men  in  Massachusetts  and  New  York  who  might  rise 
against  our  King  and  that  our  Governor  Tryon  meant  to 
take  some  measures  concerning  tea. 

"Well,  well,"  burst  out  Sir  William  at  length;  "in  evil 
days  let  us  thank  God  that  the  fish  still  swim!  Eh,  Micky? 
I  wish  the  ice  were  out." 

"  The  anchor-ice  is  afloat,  and  the  Kennyetto  is  free,  sir," 
I  said,  quickly. 

"  How  do  you  know  ?"  asked  Sir  William,  laughing. 

I  had,  the  day  previous,  run  across  to  the  Kennyetto  to 
see,  and  I  told  him  so. 

He  was  pleased  to  praise  my  zeal  and  to  say  I  ran  like  a 
Mohawk,  which  praise  sounded  sweet  until  I  saw  Silver 
Heels's  sly  smile,  and  I  remembered  the  foot-race  and  the 
jack-knife. 

But  I  was  above  foot-races  now.  Others  might  run  to 
amuse  me;  I  would  look  on — perhaps  distribute  prizes. 

"  Some  day,  Sir  William,  will  you  not  make  me  one  of 
your  deputies?"  I  asked,  eagerly. 

"  Hear  the  lad !"  cried  Sir  William,  pushing  back  his  chair. 
"  On  my  soul,  Captain  Butler,  it  is  time  for  old  weather 
worn  Indian  commissioners  like  me  to  resign  and  make  way 
for  younger  blood!  And  his  Majesty  might  be  worse  served 
than  by  Micky  here;  eh,  Captain  Butler?" 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Mr.  Butler,  in  his  dead  voice. 

Sir  William  rose  and  we  all  stood  up.  The  Baronet,  brush 
ing  Silver  Heels  on  his  way  to  the  door,  passed  his  arm 
around  her  and  tilted  her  chin  up. 

"  Now  do  you  go  to  Mistress  Mary  and  beg  her  to  place 
you  in  the  stocks  for  an  hour;  and  stay  there  in  patience 
for  your  body's  grace.  Will  you  promise  me,  Felicity  ?" 

Silver  Heels  began  to  pout  and  tease,  hooking  her  fingers 
in  Sir  William's  belt,  but  the  Baronet  packed  her  off  with 
his  message  to  Mistress  Molly,  and  went  out  to  the  portico 

23 


CARDIGAN 

where  one  of  his  damned  Scotch  gillies  attended  with  gaff, 
spear,  and  net-sack. 

"  Oho,"  thought  I,  "  so  it's  salmon  in  the  Sacondaga !" 
And  I  fell  to  teasing  that  he  might  take  me,  too. 

"  No,  Micky,"  he  said,  soberly;  "  it's  less  for  sport  than  for 
quiet  reflection  that  I  go.  Don't  sulk,  lad.  To-morrow,  per- 


"  Is  it  a  promise,  sir  ?"  I  cried. 

"  Perhaps,"  he  laughed,  "  if  the  cards  turn  up  right." 

That  meant  he  had  some  Indian  affair  on  hand,  and  I  fell 
back,  satisfied  that  his  rod  was  a  ruse,  and  that  he  was  really 
bound  for  one  of  the  council  fires  at  the  upper  castle. 

So  he  went  away,  the  sentry  at  the  south  block-house  pre 
senting  his  firelock,  and  I  back  into  the  hall,  whistling,  en 
chanted  with  my  new  liberty,  yet  somewhat  concerned  as  to 
the  disposal  of  so  vast  an  amount  of  time,  now  all  my  own. 

I  had  now  been  enfranchised  nearly  three  hours,  and  had 
already  used  these  first  moments  of  liberty  in  picking  a 
mortal  quarrel  with  Mr.  Butler.  I  had  begun  rashly;  I  ad 
mitted  that;  yet  I  could  not  regret  the  defiance.  Soon  or 
late  I  felt  that  Mr.  Butler  and  I  would  meet;  I  had  believed 
it  for  years.  Now  that  at  last  our  tryst  was  in  sight,  it 
neither  surprised  nor  disturbed  me,  nor,  now  that  he  was 
out  of  my  sight,  did  I  feel  impatient  to  settle  it,  so  accus 
tomed  had  I  become  to  waiting  for  the  inevitable  hour. 

I  strolled  through  the  hallway,  hands  in  pockets,  whistling 
"Amaryllis,"  a  tune  that  smacked  on  my  lips;  and  so  came 
to  the  south  casement.  Pressing  my  nose  to  the  pane,  I 
looked  into  the  young  orchard  where  the  robins  ran  in  the 
new  grass;  and  I  found  it  delicious  to  linger  in-doors, 
knowing  I  was  free  to  go  out  when  I  chose,  and  none  to  cry, 
"Comeback!" 

In  the  first  flush  of  surprise  and  pleasure,  I  have  noticed 
that  the  liberated  seldom  venture  instantly  into  that  freedom 
so  dearly  desired.  Open  the  cage  of  a  thrush  that  has  sung 
all  winter  of  freedom,  and  lo!  the  little  thing,  creeping  out 
under  the  sky,  runs  back  to  the  cage,  fearing  the  sweet  free 
dom  of  its  heart's  desire. 

So  I;  and  mounted  the  stairway,  seeking  my  own  little 
chamber.  Here  I  found  Esk  and  Peter  at  play,  letting  down 

24 


CAKD1GAN 

a  string  from  the  open  window,  baited  with  corn,  and  the 
pullets  jumping  for  it  with  great  outcry  and  flapping  of 
wings. 

So  I  played  with  them  for  a  while,  then  put  them  out,  and 
bolted  the  door  despite  their  cries  and  kicks. 

Sitting  there  on  my  cot  I  surveyed  my  domain  serenely, 
proud  as  though  it  had  been  a  mansion  and  all  mine. 

There  were  my  books,  not  much  thumbed  save  Roderick 
Random  and  the  prints  of  Le  Brun's  Battles  of  Alexander. 
Still  I  cherished  the  others  because  gifts  of  Sir  William  or 
relics  of  my  honoured  father — the  two  volumes  called  An  In 
troduction  to  Sir  Isaac  Newton's  Philosophy;  two  volumes  of 
Chambers's  Dictionary;  all  the  volumes  of  The  Gentleman's 
Magazine  from  1748;  Titan's  Loves  of  the  Gods — an  im 
modest  print  which  I  hated ;  my  beloved  "  Amaryllis,"  called 
A  New  Musical  Design,  and  well  bound;  and  last  a  manu 
script  much  faded  and  eaten  by  mice,  yet  readable,  and  it 
was  a  most  lovely  song  composed  long  since  by  a  Mr.  Pepys, 
the  name  of  which  was  "  Gaze  not  on  Swans !" 

My  chamber  was  small,  yet  pleasing.  Upon  the  walls  I  had 
placed, by  favour  of  Sir  William,  pictures  of  the  best  running- 
horses  at  Newmarket,  also  four  prints  of  a  camp  by  Wat- 
teau,  well  executed,  though  French.  Also,  there  hung  above 
the  door  a  fox's  mask,  my  whip,  my  hunting-horn,  my  spurs, 
and  two  fish-rods  made  for  me  by  Joseph  Brant,  who  is  called 
Thayendanegea,  chief  of  the  Mohawk  and  of  the  Six  Na 
tions,  and  brother  to  Aunt  Molly,  who  is  no  kin  of  mine, 
though  her  children  are  Sir  William's,  and  he  is  my  kins 
man. 

In  this  room  also  I  kept  my  black  lead-pencil  made  by 
Faber,  a  ream  of  paper  from  England,  and  a  lump  of  red 
sealing-wax. 

I  had  written,  in  my  life,  but  two  letters :  one  three  years 
since  I  wrote  to  Sir  Peter  Warren  to  thank  him  for  a  sum 
of  money  sent  for  my  use;  the  other  to  a  little  girl  named 
Marie  Livingston,  whom  I  knew  in  Albany  when  Sir  William 
took  me  for  the  probating  of  papers  which  I  do  not  yet 
understand. 

She  wrote  me  a  letter,  which  was  delivered  by  chance,  the 
express  having  been  scalped  below  Fonda's  Bush,  and  signed 

25 


CAKDIGAN 

"  your  cozzen  Marie,"  Mr.  Livingston  being  kin  to  Sir  Will 
iam.  I  had  not  yet  written  again  to  her,  though  I  had  meant 
to  do  so  these  twelve  months  past.  She  had  yellow  hair 
which  was  pleasing,  and  she  did  not  resemble  Silver  Heels  in 
complexion  or  manner,  having  never  flouted  me.  Her  father 
gave  me  two  peaches,  some  Salem  sweets  called  Black  Jacks, 
and  a  Delaware  basket  to  take  home  with  me,  heaped  with 
macaroons,  crisp  almonds,  rock-candy,  caraways,  and  suckets. 
These  I  prudently  finished  before  coming  again  to  Johnson 
Hall,  and  I  remember  I  forgot  to  save  a  sucket  for  Silver 
Heels;  and  her  anger  when  I  gave  her  the  Delaware  basket 
all  sticky  inside ;  and  how  Peter  licked  it  and  blubbered  while 
still  a-licking. 

Thus,  as  I  sat  there  on  my  cot,  scenes  of  my  life  came 
jostling  me  like  long-absent  comrades,  softening  my  mood 
until  I  fell  to  thinking  of  those  honoured  parents  I  had  never 
seen  save  in  the  gray  dreams  which  mazed  my  sleep.  For 
the  day  that  brought  life  to  me  had  robbed  my  honoured 
mother  of  her  life;  and  my  father,  Captain  Cardigan,  lying 
with  Wolfe  before  Quebec,  sent  a  runner  to  Sir  William 
enjoining  him  to  care  for  me  should  the  chance  of  battle 
leave  me  orphaned. 

So  my  father,  with  Wolfe's  own  song  on  his  lips : 

"  Why,  soldiers,  why 

Should  we  be  melancholy  boys? 

Why,  soldiers,  why? 
Whose  business  'tis  to  die — " 

fell  into  Colonel  Burton's  arms  at  the  head  of  Webb's  regi 
ment,  and  his  dying  eyes  saw  the  grenadiers  wipe  out  the 
disgrace  of  Montmorency  with  dripping  bayonets.  So  he 
died,  with  a  smile,  bidding  Webb's  regiment  God-speed,  and 
sending  word  to  the  dying  Wolfe  that  he  would  meet  him  a 
minute  hence  at  Peter's  gate  in  heaven. 

Thus  came  I  naturally  by  my  hatred  for  the  French,  nor 
was  there  in  all  France  sufficient  wampum  to  wipe  away  the 
feud  or  cover  the  dear  phantom  that  stood  in  my  path  as  I 
passed  through  life  my  way. 

Now,  as  I  sat  a-thinking  by  the  window,  below  me  the 
robins  in  all  the  trees  had  begun  their  wild-wood  vespers — 

26 


CARDIGAN 

hymns  of  the  true  thrush,  though  not  rounded  with  a  thrush's 
elegance. 

The  tree-shadows,  too,  had  grown  in  length,  and  the  after 
noon  sun  wore  a  deeper  blazonry  through  the  hill  haze  in  the 
west. 

Fain  to  taste  of  the  freedom  which  was  now  mine,  I  went 
out  and  down  the  stairs,  passing  my  lady  Silver  Heels 
strapped  to  a  back-board  and  in  a  temper  with  her  sampler. 

"  Oh,  Micky,"  she  said,  "  my  bones  ache,  and  Mistress 
Molly  is  with  the  baby,  and  the  key  is  there  on  that  brass 
nail." 

"It  would  be  wrong  if  I  released  you,"  said  I,  piously, 
meaning  to  do  it,  nevertheless. 

"  Oh,  Micky,"  she  said,  with  a  kind  of  pitiful  sweetness 
which  at  times  she  used  to  obtain  advantages  from  me. 

So  I  took  the  key  and  unlocked  the  stocks,  giving  her  feet 
a  pinch  to  let  her  know  I  was  not  truly  as  soft-hearted  as 
she  might  deem  me,  nor  too  easily  won  by  woman's  be 
seeching. 

And  now,  mark!  No  sooner  was  she  free  than  she  gave 
me  a  slap  for  the  pinch  and  away  she  flew  like  a  tree-lynx 
with  the  pack  in  cry. 

"  This,"  thought  I,  "  is  a  woman's  gratitude,"  and  I 
locked  the  stocks  again,  wishing  Silver  Heels's  feet  were  in 
them. 

"  Best  have  it  out  at  once  with  Mistress  Molly,"  thought  I, 
and  went  to  the  nursery.  But  before  I  could  knock  on  the 
door,  Mistress  Molly  heard  me  with  her  ears  of  a  Mohawk, 
and  came  to  the  door  with  one  finger  on  her  lips. 

Truly  the  sister  of  Thayeiidanegea  was  a  stately  and 
comely  lady,  and  a  beauty,  too,  being  little  darker  than 
some  French  ladies  I  have  seen,  and  of  gracious  and  noble 
presence. 

Bearing  and  mien  were  proud,  yet  winning;  and,  clothed 
always  as  befitted  the  lady  of  Sir  William  Johnson,  none 
who  came  into  her  presence  could  think  less  of  her  because 
of  her  Mohawk  blood  or  the  relation  she  bore  to  Sir  William 
— an  honest  one  as  she  understood  it. 

She  ruled  the  Hall  with  dignity  and  with  an  authority 
that  none  dreamed  of  opposing.  At  table  she  was  silent, 

27 


CARDIGAN 

yet  gracious;  in  the  nursery  she  reigned  a  beloved  and  de 
voted  mother;  and  if  ever  a  man's  wife  remained  his  sweet 
heart  to  the  end,  Molly  Brant  was  Sir  William's  true-love 
while  his  life  endured. 

"  Why  did  you  release  Felicity  from  the  stocks,  Michael  ?" 
said  she,  in  a  whisper. 

So  her  quick  Indian  ear  had  heard  the  click  of  that  lock ! 

"  I  had  come  to  tell  you  of  it,  Aunt  Mary,"  said  I. 

She  looked  at  me  keenly,  then  smiled. 

"  A  sin  confessed  is  half  redressed.  I  had  meant  to  re 
lease  Felicity  some  time  since,  but  the  baby  had  fretted  her 
self  to  sleep  in  my  arms  and  I  feared  to  put  her  down.  But, 
Michael,  remember  in  future  to  ask  permission  when  you 
desire  to  play  with  Felicity." 

"  Play  with  Felicity !"  I  said,  scornfully.  "  I  am  past  the 
playing  age,  Aunt  Molly,  and  I  only  released  her  because  I 
thought  her  back  ached." 

Mistress  Molly  looked  at  me  again,  long  and  keenly. 

"  Little  savage,"  she  said,  gently,  "  mock  at  my  people  no 
more.  I  should  chide  you  for  misusing  Peter,  but — I  will 
say  nothing.  You  make  my  heart  heavy  sometimes." 

"  I  do  honour  and  love  you,  Aunt  Molly !"  I  said ;  "  it  was 
not  that  I  mocked  at  Peter,  but  his  breeches  were  so  tight 
that  I  wondered  if  Vix  could  bite  him.  I  shall  now  go  to 
the  garden  and  allow  Peter  to  kick  my  shins.  Anyway,  I 
gave  him  all  my  quills  and  a  plummet  and  a  screw." 

She  laughed  silently,  bidding  me  renounce  my  intention 
regarding  Peter,  and  so  dismissed  me,  with  her  finger  on  her 
lips  conjuring  silence. 

So  I  pursued  my  interrupted  way  to  the  garden  where  the 
robins  carolled  in  every  young  fruit-tree,  and  the  blue 
shadows  wove  patterns  on  the  grass. 

Peter  and  Esk  were  on  the  ground  playing  at  marbles, 
with  Silver  Heels  to  judge  between  them. 

Esk,  perceiving  me,  cried  out:  "Knuckle  down  at  taws, 
Micky!  Come  on!  Alleys  up  and  fen  dubs!" 

"Fen  dubs  your  granny!"  I  replied,  scornfully,  clean 
forgetting  my  new  dignity.  "Dubs  all,  and  bull's-eyes  up 
is  what  I  play,  unless  you  want  to  put  in  agates?"  I  added, 
covetously. 

28 


CARDIGAN 

Esk  shook  his  head  in  alarm,  muttering  that  his  agates 
were  for  shooters;  but  fat  Peter,  sprawling  belly  down  at 
the  ring,  offered  to  put  up  an  agate  against  four  bull's-eyes, 
two  agates,  and  twelve  miggs,  and  play  dubs  and  span  in  a 
round  fat. 

The  proposition  was  impudent,  unfair,  and  thoroughly 
Indian.  I  was  about  to  spurn  it  when  Silver  Heels  chirped 
up,  "  Micky  doesn't  dare." 

"  Put  up  your  agate,  Peter,"  said  I,  coolly,  ignoring  Silver 
Heels ;  and  I  fished  the  required  marbles  from  my  pocket  and 
placed  them  in  the  ring. 

"  My  shot,"  announced  Peter,  hurriedly,  crowding  down  on 
the  line,  another  outrage  which,  considering  the  presence  of 
Silver  Heels,  I  passed  unnoticed. 

Peter  shot  and  clipped  a  migg  out  of  the  ring.  He  shot 
again  and  grazed  an  agate,  shouting  "Dubs!"  to  the  de 
rision  of  us  all. 

Then  I  squatted  down  and  sent  two  bull's-eyes  flying,  but, 
forestalled  by  Peter's  hysterical  "  Fen  dubs !"  was  obliged 
to  replace  one.  However,  I  shot  again  and  it  was  dubs  all, 
and  I  pocketed  both  of  my  agates  and  Peter's  also. 

This  brought  on  a  wrangle,  which  Silver  Heels  settled  in 
my  favour.  Then  I  sat  down  and,  with  deadly  accuracy, 
"  spun,"  from  which  comfortable  position,  and  without  span 
ning,  I  skinned  the  ring,  leaving  Peter  grief-stricken,  with 
one  migg  in  his  grimy  fist. 

"  You  may  have  them,"  said  I,  condescendingly,  dropping 
my  spoils  into  Silver  Heels's  lap. 

She  coloured  with  surprise  and  pleasure,  scarcely  finding 
tongue  to  say,  "  Thank  you,  Micky." 

Peter,  being  half  Indian,  demanded  more  play.  But  I  was 
satiated  and,  already  remembering  my  dignity,  regretted  the 
lapse  into  children's  pastimes.  I  quieted  Peter  by  giving 
him  the  remainder  of  my  marbles,  explaining  that  I  had  re 
nounced  such  games  for  manlier  sport,  which  statement, 
coupled  with  my  lavish  generosity,  impressed  Peter  and  Esk, 
if  it  had  not  effect  upon  Silver  Heels. 

I  sat  down  on  the  stone  bench  near  the  bee-hives  and  drew 
from  my  pocket  the  jack-knife  given  me  by  Silver  Heels  as 
a  bribe  to  silence. 

29 


CARDIGAN 

"  Come  over  here,  Silver  Heels,"  I  said,  with  patronizing 
kindness. 

"  What  for?"  she  demanded. 

"  Oh,  don't  come  then,"  I  retorted,  whereat  she  rose  from 
the  grass  with  her  skirt  full  of  marbles  and  came  over  to 
the  stone  bench. 

After  a  moment  she  seated  herself,  eying  the  knife  askance. 
I  had  opened  the  blade.  Lord,  how  I  hated  to  give  it  back ! 

"  Take  it,"  said  I,  closing  the  blade,  but  not  offering  it  to 
her. 

"  Truly  ?"  she  stammered,  not  reaching  out  her  hand,  for 
fear  I  should  draw  it  away  again  to  plague  her. 

I  dropped  the  knife  into  her  lap  among  the  marbles,  thrill 
ing  at  the  spectacle  of  my  own  generosity. 

She  seized  it,  repeating: 

"King,  King,  double  King! 
Can't  take  back  a  given  thing!" 

"You  needn't  say  '  King,  King,  double  King/"  said  1, 
offended ;  "  for  I  was  not  going  to  take  it  back,  silly !" 

"  Truly,  Michael  ?"  she  asked,  looking  up  at  me.  Theri 
she  added,  sweetly,  "  I  am  sorry  I  bit  you." 

"  Ho !"  said  I,  "  do  you  think  you  hurt  me  ?" 

She  said  nothing,  playing  with  the  marbles  in  her  lap. 

I  sat  and  watched  the  bees  fly  to  and  fro  like  bullets;  in 
the  quiet  even  the  hills,  cloaked  in  purple  mantles,  smoked 
with  the  steam  of  hidden  snow-drifts  still  lingering  in 
ravines  where  arbutus  scents  the  forest  twilight. 

The  robins  had  already  begun  their  rippling  curfew  call; 
crickets  creaked  from  the  planked  walk.  Behind  me  the 
voices  of  Peter  and  Esk  rose  in  childish  dispute  or  excited 
warning  to  "  Knuckle  down  hard !"  Already  the  delicate 
spring  twilight  stained  the  east  with  primrose  and  tints  of 
green.  A  calm  star  rose  in  the  south. 

Presently  Silver  Heels  pinched  me,  and  I  felt  around  to 
pinch  back. 

"  Hush,"  she  whispered,  jogging  my  elbow  a  little,  "  there 
is  a  strange  Indian  between  us  and  the  block-house.  He  has 
a  gun,  but  no  blanket !" 

For  a  moment  a  cold,  tight  feeling  stopped  my  breath,  not 

30 


CARDIGAN 

because  a  strange  Indian  stood  between  me  and  the  block 
house,  but  because  of  that  instinct  which  stirs  the  fur  on 
wild  things  when  taken  unawares,  even  by  friends. 

My  roughened  skin  had  not  smoothed  again  before  I  was 
on  my  feet  and  advancing. 

Instantly,  too,  I  perceived  that  the  Indian  was  a  stranger 
to  our  country.  Although  an  Iroquois,  and  possibly  of  the 
Cayuga  tribe,  yet  he  differed  from  our  own  Cayugas.  He 
was  stark  naked  save  for  the  breech-clout.  But  his  moc 
casins  were  foreign,  so  also  was  the  pouch  which  swung 
like  a  Highlander's  sporran  from  his  braided  clout-string, 
for  it  was  made  of  the  scarlet  feathers  of  a  bird  which 
never  flew  in  our  country,  and  no  osprey  ever  furnished 
the  fine  snow-white  fringe  which  hung  from  it,  falling 
half-way  between  knee  and  ankle. 

Observing  him  at  closer  range,  I  saw  he  was  in  a  plight: 
his  flesh  dusty  and  striped  with  dry  blood  where  thorns  had 
brushed  him ;  his  eyes  burning  with  privation,  and  sunk  deep 
behind  the  cheek-bones. 

As  I  halted,  he  dropped  the  rifle  into  the  hollow  of  his  left 
arm  and  raised  his  right  hand,  palm  towards  me. 

I  raised  my  right  hand,  but  remained  motionless,  bidding 
him  lay  his  rifle  at  his  feet. 

He  replied  in  the  Cayuga  language,  yet  with  a  foreign  in 
tonation,  that  the  dew  was  heavy  and  would  dampen  the 
priming  of  his  rifle;  that  he  had  no  blanket  on  which  to  lay 
his  arms,  and  further,  that  the  sentinels  at  the  block-houses 
were  watching  him  with  loaded  muskets. 

This  was  true.  However,  I  permitted  him  to  advance  no 
closer  until  I  hailed  a  soldier,  who  came  clumping  out  of  the 
stables,  and  who  instantly  cocked  and  primed  his  musket. 

Then  I  asked  the  strange  Cayuga  what  he  wanted. 

"  Peace,"  he  said,  again  raising  his  hand,  palm  out ;  and 
again  I  raised  my  hand,  saying,  "  Peace !" 

From  the  scarlet  pouch  he  drew  a  little  stick,  six  inches 
long,  and  painted  red. 

"  Look  out,"  said  I  to  the  soldier,  "  that  is  a  war-stick !  If 
he  shifts  his  rifle,  aim  at  his  heart." 

But  the  runner  had  now  brought  to  light  from  his  pouch 
other  sticks,  some  blood-red,  some  black  ringed  with  white. 

31 


CAKDIGAN 

These  he  gravely  sorted,  dropping  the  red  ones  back  into 
his  pouch,  and  naively  displaying  the  black  and  white  rods 
in  a  bunch. 

"  War-ragh-i-ya-gey !"  he  said,  gently,  adding,  "  I  bear 
belts!" 

It  was  the  title  given  by  our  Mohawks  to  Sir  William,  and 
signified,  "  One  who  unites  two  peoples  together." 

"  You  wish  to  see  Chief  Warragh,"  I  repeated,  "  and  you 
come  with  your  pouch  full  of  little  red  sticks  ?" 

He  darted  a  keen  glance  at  me,  then,  with  a  dignified  gest 
ure,  laid  his  rifle  down  in  the  dew. 

A  little  ashamed,  I  turned  and  dismissed  the  soldier,  then 
advanced  and  gave  the  silent  runner  my  hand,  telling  him 
that  although  his  moccasins  and  pouch  were  strange,  never 
theless  the  kin  of  the  Cayugas  were  welcome  to  Johnson 
Hall.  I  pointed  at  his  rifle,  bidding  him  resume  it.  He 
raised  it  in  silence. 

"He  is  a  belt-bearer,"  I  thought  to  myself;  "but  his  mes 
sage  is  not  of  peace." 

I  said,  pleasantly: 

"  By  the  belts  you  bear,  follow  me !" 

The  dull  fire  that  fever  kindles  flickered  behind  his 
shadowy  eyes.  I  spoke  to  him  kindly  and  conducted  him  to 
the  north  block-house. 

"  Bearer  of  belts,"  said  I,  passing  the  sentry,  and  so 
through  the  guard-room,  with  the  soldiers  all  rising  at  at 
tention,  and  into  Sir  William's  Indian  guest-room. 

My  Cayuga  must  have  seen  that  he  was  fast  in  a  trap,  yet 
neither  by  word  nor  glance  did  he  appear  to  observe  it. 

The  sun  had  set.  A  chill  from  the  west  sent  the  shivers 
creeping  up  my  legs  as  I  called  a  soldier  and  bade  him  kindle 
a  fire  for  us.  Then  on  my  own  responsibility  I  went  into 
the  store-room  and  rummaged  about  until  I  discovered  a 
thick  red  blanket.  I  knew  I  was  taking  what  was  not  mine ; 
I  knew  also  I  was  transgressing  Sir  William's  orders.  Yet 
some  instinct  told  me  to  act  on  my  own  discretion,  and  that 
Sir  William  would  have  done  the  same  had  he  been  here. 

A  noise  at  the  guard  door  brought  me  running  out  of 
the  store-room  to  find  my  Cayuga  making  to  force  his  way 
out,  and  the  soldiers  shoving  him  into  the  guest-room  again. 

32 


CAKDIGAN 

"Fall  back!"  I  cried,  my  wits  working  like  shuttles;  and 
quickly  added  in  the  Cayuga  tongue :  "  Cayugas  are  free 
people;  free  to  stay,  free  to  go.  Open  the  door  for  iny 
brother  who  fears  his  brother's  fireside !" 

There  was  a  silence;  the  soldiers  stood  back  respectfully; 
a  sergeant  opened  the  outer  door.  But  the  Indian,  turning 
his  hot  eyes  on  me,  swung  on  his  heel  and  re-entered  the 
guest-room,  drawing  the  flint  from  his  rifle  as  he  walked. 

I  followed  and  laid  the  thick  red  blanket  on  his  dusty 
shoulders. 

"  Sergeant,"  I  called,  "  send  McCloud  for  meat  and  drink, 
and  notify  Sir  William  as  soon  as  he  arrives  that  his  brothers 
of  the  Cayuga  would  speak  to  hirn  with  belts !" 

I  was  not  sure  of  the  etiquette  required  of  me  after  this, 
not  knowing  whether  to  leave  the  Cayuga  alone  or  bear  him 
company.  Tribes  differ,  so  do  nations  in  their  observance  of 
these  forms.  One  thing  more  puzzled  me:  here  was  a  belt- 
bearer  with  messages  from  some  distant  and  strange  branch 
of  the  Cayuga  tribe,  yet  the  etiquette  of  their  allies,  our 
Mohawks,  decreed  that  belts  should  be  delivered  by  sachems 
or  chiefs,  well  escorted,  and  through  the  sinoke  of  council 
fires  never  theoretically  extinguished  between  allies  and 
kindred  people. 

One  thing  I  of  course  knew:  that  a  guest,  once  admitted, 
should  never  be  questioned  until  he  had  eaten  and  slept. 

But  whether  or  not  I  was  committing  a  breach  of  etiquette 
by  squatting  there  by  the  fire  with  my  Cayuga,  I  did  not 
know. 

However,  considering  the  circumstances,  I  called  out  for 
a  soldier  to  bring  two  pipes  and  tobacco;  and  when  they 
were  fetched  to  me,  I  filled  one  and  passed  it  to  the  Cayuga, 
then  filled  the  other,  picked  a  splinter  from  the  fire,  lighted 
mine,  and  passed  the  blazing  splinter  to  my  guest. 

If  his  ideas  on  etiquette  were  disturbed,  he  did  not  show  it. 
He  puffed  at  his  pipe  and  drew  his  blanket  close  about  his 
naked  body,  staring  into  the  fire  with  the  grave,  absent  air  of 
a  cat  on  a  wintry  night. 

Now,  stealing  a  glance  at  his  scalp-lock,  I  saw  by  the  fire 
light  the  stumps  of  two  quills,  with  a  few  feather-fronds 
still  clinging  to  them,  fastened  in  the  knot  on  his  crown, 
c  33 


CAKDIGAN 

The  next  covert  glance  told  me  that  they  were  the  ragged 
stubs  of  the  white-headed  eagle's  feathers,  and  that  my 
guest  was  a  chief.  This  set  me  in  a  quandary.  What  was  a 
strange  Cayuga  chief  doing  here  without  escort,  without 
blanket,  yet  bearing  belts?  Etiquette  absolutely  forbade  a 
single  question.  Was  I,  in  my  inexperience,  treating  him 
properly?  Would  my  ignorance  of  what  was  due  him  bring 
trouble  and  difficulty  to  Sir  William  when  he  returned? 

Suddenly  resolved  to  clear  Sir  William  of  any  suspicion 
of  awkwardness,  and  at  the  risk  of  my  being  considered 
garrulous,  I  rose  and  said: 

"  My  brother  is  a  man  and  a  chief ;  he  will  understand 
that  in  the  absence  of  my  honoured  kinsman,  Sir  William 
Johnson,  and  in  the  absence  of  officers  in  authority,  the 
hospitality  of  Johnson  Hall  falls  upon  me. 

"  Ignorant  of  my  brother's  customs,  I  bid  him  welcome, 
because  he  is  naked,  tired,  and  hungry.  I  kindle  his  fire; 
I  bring  him  pipe  and  food ;  and  now  I  bid  him  sleep  in  peace 
behind  doors  that  open  at  his  will." 

Then  the  Cayuga  rose  to  his  full  noble  height,  bending  hig 
burning  eyes  on  mine.  There  was  a  silence;  and  so,  angry 
or  grateful,  I  knew  not  which,  he  resumed  his  seat  by  the 
fire,  and  I  went  out  through  the  guard-room  into  the  still, 
starry  night. 

But  I  did  not  tarry  to  sniff  at  the  stars  nor  search  the 
dewy  herbage  for  those  pale  blossoms  which  open  only  on 
such  a  night,  hiding  elf-pearls  in  their  fairy  petals.  Straight 
way  I  sought  Mistress  Molly  in  the  nursery,  and  told  her 
what  I  had  done.  She  listened  gravely  and  without  comment 
or  word  of  blame  or  praise,  which  was  like  all  Indians.  But 
she  questioned  me,  and  I  described  the  strange  belt-bearer 
from  his  scalp-lock  to  the  sole  of  his  moccasin. 

"  Cayuga,"  she  said,  softly ;  "  what  make  was  his  rifle  ?" 

"  Not  English,  not  French,"  I  said.  "  The  barrel  near  the 
breech  bore  figures  like  those  on  Sir  William's  duelling 
pistols." 

"  Spanish,"  she  said,  dreamily.  "  In  his  language  did  he 
pronounce  agh  like  ahh?" 

"  Yes,  Aunt  Molly." 

She  remained  silent  a  moment,  thoughtful  eyes  on  mine. 

34 


CAKDIGAN 

Then  she  smiled  and  dismissed  me,  but  I  begged  her  to  tell 
me  from  whence  my  Cayuga  came. 

"  I  will  tell  you  this,"  she  said.  "  He  comes  from  very, 
very  far  away,  and  he  follows  some  customs  of  the  Tusca- 
roras,  which  they  in  turn  borrow  from  a  tribe  which  lives 
so  far  away  that  I  should  go  to  sleep  in  counting  the  miles 
for  you." 

With  that  she  shut  the  nursery  door,  and  I,  no  wiser  than 
before,  and  understanding  that  Mistress  Molly  did  not  mean 
I  should  be  wiser,  sat  down  on  the  stairs  to  think  and  to 
wait  for  Sir  William. 

A  moment  later  a  man  on  horseback  rode  out  of  our  stables 
at  a  gallop  and  clattered  away  down  the  hill.  I  listened  for 
a  moment,  then  thought  of  other  things. 


CHAPTER   III 

AT  late  candle-light,  Sir  William  still  tarrying,  I  went  to 
the  north  block-house,  where  Mr.  Duncan,  the  lieutenant 
commanding  the  guard,  received  me  with  unusual  courtesy, 
the  reason  of  which  I  did  not  at  the  time  suspect. 

"An  express  from  Sir  William  has  at  this  moment  come 
in,"  said  he.  "  Sir  William  is  aware  that  a  belt-bearer  from 
Virginia  awaits  him/' 

"  How  could  Sir  William,  who  is  at  Castle  Cumberland, 
know  that?"  I  began,  then  was  silent,  as  it  flashed  into  my 
mind  that  Mistress  Molly  had  sent  an  express  to  Sir  William 
as  soon  as  I  had  told  her  about  the  strange  Cayuga.  That 
was  the  galloping  horseman  I  had  heard. 

Pondering  and  perplexed,  I  looked  up  to  find  Mr.  Duncan 
smiling  at  me. 

"  I  understand,"  said  he,  "  that  Sir  William  is  pleased  to 
approve  your  conduct  touching  the  strange  Cayuga." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?"  I  asked,  quickly,  my  heart  warming 
with  pleasure. 

"I  know  this,"  said  Mr.  Duncan,  laughing,  "that  Sir 
William  has  left  something  for  you  with  me,  a  present,  in 
fact,  which  I  am  to  deliver  to  you  on  the  morrow." 

"  What  is  it,  Mr.  Duncan  ?"  I  teased ;  but  the  laughing 
officer  shook  his  head,  retiring  into  the  guard-room  and  pre 
tending  to  be  afraid  of  me. 

The  soldiers,  lounging  around  the  settles,  pipes  between 
their  teeth,  looked  on  with  respectful  grins.  Clearly,  even 
they  appeared  to  know  what  Sir  William  had  sent  to  me 
from  Castle  Cumberland. 

As  I  stood  in  the  guard-room,  eager,  yet  partly  vexed, 
away  below  in  the  village  the  bell  in  the  new  stone  church 
began  to  ring. 

"  What  is  that  ?"  I  asked,  in  surprise. 

36 


CARDIGAN 

The  soldiers  had  all  risen,  taking  their  muskets  from  the 
racks,  straightening  belts  and  bandoleers.  In  the  stir  and 
banging  cf  gun-stocks  on  the  stone  floor,  my  question  per 
haps  was  not  heard  by  Mr.  Duncan,  for  he  stood  silent,  un 
twisting  his  sword  knots  and  eying  the  line  which  the  ser 
geant,  who  carried  the  halberd,  was  forming  in  the  room. 

A  drummer  and  a  trumpeter  took  station,  six  paces  to  the 
right  and  front;  the  sergeant,  at  a  carry,  advanced  and  sa 
luted  with,  "  Parade  is  formed,  sir." 

"  'Tention !"  sang  out  Mr.  Duncan.  "  Support  arms !  Car 
ry  arms!  Trail  arms!  File  by  the  left  flank!  March!" 
And  with  drawn  claymore  on  his  shoulder  he  passed  out  into 
the  starlight. 

I  followed ;  and  now,  standing  by  the  block-house  gate,  far 
away  in  the  village  I  heard  the  rub-a-dub  of  a  drum  and  a 
loud  trumpet  blowing. 

Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  drum;  the  trumpet  ceased. 
And  now  I  could  hear  the  tramp,  tramp,  tramp  of  infantry 
on  the  hill's  black  crest. 

"  Present  arms !"  cried  Mr.  Duncan,  sharply. 

A  dark  mass  which  I  had  not  supposed  to  be  moving,  sud 
denly  loomed  up  close  in  front  of  us,  taking  the  shape  of  a 
long  column,  which  passed  with  the  flicker  of  starlight  on 
musket  and  belt,  tramp,  tramp,  tramp  to  the  ringing  drum 
beats. 

Then  our  drum  rattled  and  trumpet  sang  prettily,  while 
Mr.  Duncan  rendered  the  officer's  salute  as  a  dark  stand  of 
colours  passed,  borne  furled  and  high  above  the  slanting 
muskets. 

Baggage  wains  began  to  creak  by,  great  shapeless  hulks 
rolling  in  on  the  black  ocean  of  the  night,  with  soldiers 
half  asleep  on  top,  and  teamsters  afoot,  heads  hanging 
drowsily  and  looped  raw-hides  trailing. 

The  last  yoke  of  oxen  passed,  dragging  a  brass  cannon. 

"  'Tention !"  said  Mr.  Duncan.  "  Support  arms !  Trail 
arms !  'Bout  face !  By  the  right  flank,  wheel !  March !" 

Back  into  the  block-house  filed  the  guard,  the  drummer 
bearing  his  drum  flat  on  his  hip,  the  trumpeter  swinging  his 
instrument  to  his  shoulder-knots. 

Mr.  Duncan  sent  his  claymore  ringing  into  the  scabbard, 

37 


CARDIGAN 

wrapped  his  plaid  around  his  throat,  and  strolled  off  towards 
the  new  barracks,  east  of  the  Hall. 

"  What  troops  were  those,  sir  ?"  I  asked,  respectfully. 

"  Three  companies  of  Royal  Americans  from  Albany,"  said 
he.  Then,  noticing  my  puzzled  face,  he  added,  "  There  is  to 
be  a  big  council  fire  held  here,  Master  Cardigan.  Did  you 
not  know  it  ?" 

"No,"  said  I,  slowly,  reluctant  to  admit  that  I  had  not 
shared  Sir  William's  confidence. 

"  Look  yonder,"  said  Mr.  Duncan. 

Far  out  in  the  pale  starlight,  south  and  west  of  the  Hall, 
I  saw  fires  kindled,  one  by  one,  until  the  twinkle  of  their 
lights  ran  for  a  mile  across  the  uplands.  On  a  hill  in  the 
north  a  signal  fire  sent  long  streamers  of  flame  straight  up 
into  the  sky ;  other  beacons  flashed  out  in  the  darkness,  some 
so  distant  that  I  could  not  be  certain  they  were  more  than 
sparks  of  my  imagination. 

"  It  is  the  Six  Nations  gathering,"  said  Mr.  Duncan.  "  We 
expect  important  guests." 

"What  for?"  I  asked. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Mr.  Duncan,  gravely.  "  Good-night, 
Mr.  Cardigan." 

"  Good-night,  sir,"  I  said,  thoughtfully ;  then  cried  after 
him,  "  and  my  present,  Mr.  Duncan  ?" 

"  To-morrow,"  he  answered,  and  passed  on  his  way  a-laugh- 
ing. 

I  walked  quickly  back  to  the  Hall,  where  I  encountered 
Esk  and  Peter,  well  bibbed,  cleaning  the  last  crumb  from 
their  bowls  of  porridge. 

"  Did  you  see  the  soldiers  ?"  cried  Esk,  tapping  upon  his 
bowl  and  marching  up  and  down  the  hallway. 

"Look  out  of  the  back  windows,"  added  Peter.  "The 
Onondaga  fires  are  burning  on  the  hills." 

"  Oneidas,"  corrected  Esk. 

"  Onondagas,"  persisted  Peter,  smearing  his  face  with  his 
spoon  to  lick  it. 

"Where  is  Silver  Heels?"  I  asked. 

Mistress  Molly  came  into  the  hall  from  the  pantry,  keys 
jingling  at  her  girdle,  and  took  Peter  by  his  sticky  fingers, 
bidding  Esk  follow. 

88 


CARDIGAN 

"Bed-time,"  she  said,  with  her  pretty  smile.  "Michael, 
Felicity  is  being  dressed  by  Betty.  If  Sir  William  does  not 
return,  you  will  dine  with  Felicity  alone;  and  I  expect  you 
to  conduct  exactly  like  Sir  William,  and  refrain  from  kick 
ing  under  the  table." 

"  Yes,  Aunt  Molly,"  said  I,  delighted. 

Esk  and  Peter,  being  instantly  hustled  bedward,  left  la 
menting  and  asserting  that  they  too  were  old  enough  to 
imitate  Sir  William. 

Silver  Heels,  with  her  hair  done  by  Betty,  and  a  blue  sash 
over  her  fresh-flowered  cambric,  passed  them  on  the  stairs 
coming  down,  pausing  to  wish  Mistress  Molly  good-night, 
and  to  slyly  pinch  fat  Peter. 

"  Felicity,"  said  Mistress  Molly,  "  will  you  conduct  as 
befits  your  station  ?" 

"  Oh  la,  Aunt  Molly !"  she  answered,  with  that  innocent,  af 
fected  lisp  which  I  knew  was  ever  the  forerunner  of  mischief. 

She  made  her  reverence,  waiting  on  the  landing  until  she 
heard  the  nursery  door  close,  then  flung  both  legs  astride 
the  balustrade  and  slid  down  like  a  flash. 

"Have  you  seen  the  soldiers,  Micky? — and  the  fires  on 
the  hills  ?"  she  cried.  "  To-morrow  all  the  officers  will  be 
here,  and  I  am  to  wear  my  hair  curled,  and  my  pink  dress 
and  tucker,  with  separate  sleeves  of  silver  gauze !" 

We  sat  down  on  the  stairs  together  as  friendly  and  polite 
as  though  we  never  quarrelled ;  and  she  chattered  on,  smooth 
ing  her  bib-apron  with  those  silky  hands  of  hers :  "  Betty 
rolled  up  my  hair  till  I  feared  she  meant  to  scalp  me,  and 
so  told  her. 

"  She  coaxed  me  to  endure,  and  called  me  her  little  Miss 
Honey-bee,  but  would  not  promise  me  a  comfit;  so  I  ran 
away  before  my  cap  was  tied  on.  Micky,  go  and  put  on 
your  silk  breeches  and  lace  cuffs  and  we  will  be  gay  and 
grand  to  dine !" 

I  ran  to  my  chamber,  bathed  and  dressed  in  all  my  finery, 
meaning  to  lord  it  in  the  dining-hall  should  Sir  William  not 
return. 

And  thus  it  fell  out;  for,  when,  I  descended  the  stairs, 
there  was  my  lady  Silver  Heels  parading  before  the  pier- 
glass,  and  a  gillie  throwing  open  the  doors  of  the  dining-hall. 

39 


CARDIGAN 

So  that  night  Silver  Heels  and  I  supped  alone  together  In 
the  great  hall,  Mr.  Butler  having  hurriedly  ridden  to  his 
home,  and  Sir  William  not  yet  returned,  though  two  hours 
past  candle-light. 

The  hall  was  quiet  and  vast,  and  Silver  Heels  seemed  ex 
ceedingly  small,  sitting  in  the  big  chair  at  the  other  end  of 
the  table.  So  I  had  the  gillie  lay  her  plate  beside  mine. 

A  single  pair  of  candles  lighted  our  supper,  and  those  not 
of  the  best,  for  they  smoked  as  the  wind  stirred  the  cur 
tains. 

"  Do  you  not  know  what  is  due  to  quality  ?"  said  I,  sternly, 
to  the  gillie — a  raw  yokel  scented  with  whiffs  of  the  stables. 

The  kilted  oaf  gaped  at  me. 

"  Do  you  not  see  it  is  dark  here  ?"  I  said. 

"  'Tis  far  lichter  than  ye  wud  expeck  for  sae  big  a  room, 
sir,"  said  the  gillie,  with  a  foolish  grin. 

"  Young  Bareshanks,"  I  retorted ;  "  do  you  bring  instantly 
a  dozen  wax  candles  and  light  them,  idiot,  in  a  seemly  row! 
Also  fetch  Sir  William's  sherry  and  Madeira,  and  take  away 
those  pot-house  pewters !" 

The  gillie  made  out  to  do  as  he  was  bidden,  and  I  should 
have  felt  very  grand  and  contented  at  being  obeyed  without 
questions  had  I  not  perceived  him,  through  the  buttery 
window,  wink  at  the  pantry-lad  and  put  his  mottled  Scotch 
muzzle  into  my  small-beer. 

When  the  dozen  waxen  candles  stood  in  a  ring,  all  twink 
ling,  and  the  decanters  flanked  me  right  and  left,  I  bade  the 
gillie  leave  us,  mistrusting  he  might  bear  tales  to  Sir  William 
touching  our  behaviour  at  table.  But  the  dunce  loitered, 
trimming  wicks,  and  casting  sidewise  looks  at  me. 

"  Will  you  be  gone  ?"  said  I,  in  a  passion. 

"  Maister  Michael,"  he  whined ;  "  ye'll  no  be  soopin'  till  the 
blessing's  said?  Sir  William  gave  us  a  grand  discoorse  this 
noon  dinner,  sir,  verra  suitable  words,  sir." 

Mortified  at  my  forgetfulness,  I  rose;  so  did  Silver  Heels, 
the  candle-light  sparkling  under  her  half-closed  lashes,  for 
she  ever  kept  one  eye  on  duty. 

In  a  rage  I  said  grace  before  meat,  then  glared  at  the  gillie. 

"  Aave  heerd  waur,  sir,"  quoth  he ;  "  but  aa  never  sleep  the 
nicht  without  ma  blessing,  and  aa'l  no  begin  noo  L" 

40 


CAEDIGAN 

"  Get  out,  you  Scotch  loon,"  said  I,  "  or  I'll  let  this  bottle 
fly  with  my  blessing  1" 

He  ran  for  it,  at  which  Silver  Heels  and  I  laughed  heartily 
until  she  spilled  her  wine  on  her  knees,  which  spoiled  her 
temper. 

When  the  echoing  of  our  laughter  had  died  away  in  the 
dark  corners  of  the  room,  an  unaccustomed  depression  fell 
upon  me.  I  peered  up  at  the  stags'  shaggy  heads,  set  around 
the  wall;  their  dark  glazed  eyes  reflected  the  little  candle 
flames  like  fiery  eyeballs  of  living  bucks.  The  stillness  in  the 
familiar  room  troubled  me. 

Something  of  this  Silver  Heels  also  experienced,  but  the 
novelty  of  playing  the  grand  lady  with  her  sherry  and  her 
tea  set  her  tongue  a-swinging,  clip-clap!  She  shrugged  her 
shoulders  and  tossed  her  chin,  pretending  to  trifle  with  a 
dish  of  cakes,  vowing  she  had  no  appetite;  but  her  hunger 
could  not  long  withstand  the  pastry,  and  she  ate  all  the 
suckets  and  cakes  before  I  either  perceived  or  prevented  it. 

Distressed  at  her  greediness,  I  removed  the  caraways  from 
the  plate  and  pouched  them  to  eat  at  my  pleasure,  whereupon 
she  kicked  my  shins  under  the  table. 

But  she  would  still  play  my  Lady  Languish,  sighing  and 
protesting  she  could  not  touch  another  morsel,  and  her  cheeks 
full  the  while.  Too,  she  drank  of  both  sherry  and  Madeira, 
which  was  forbidden  by  Sir  William,  and  became  over-loud 
in  speech  until  her  humour  changed  to  a  fit  of  upbraiding  me, 
and  ended  in  the  sulks. 

I  remember  we  had  a  brandied  syrup,  of  which  she  also 
took  too  much,  it  making  her  pettish  and  sleepy;  and  after 
supper,  when  we  sat  together  on  the  stairs,  she  harped  ever 
on  the  same  string,  reproaching  me  for  playing  the  high  and 
mighty,  whereas  all  could  plainly  see  I  was  nothing  but  a 
boy  like  Esk  and  Peter  and  need  give  myself  no  plumes. 

"  My  legs,"  she  said,  drowsily,  "  can  touch  the  floor  from 
the  third  stair  as  well  as  yours;"  and  she  stretched  them 
down  to  prove  it,  falling  short  an  inch. 

"  If  you  are  no  longer  a  child,"  said  I,  "  why  do  they  har 
ness  you  to  the  back-board  and  make  ^ou  wear  pack-thread 
stays?" 

This  madded  her. 

41 


CARDIGAN 

"  You  shall  see,"  she  said,  in  a  temper,  "  you  shall  see  me  in 
flowered  caushets,  silk  stockings,  and  shoes  of  Paddington'a 
make,  which  befit  my  station  and  rank!  You  shall  see  me 
in  padusoy  and  ribbons  and  a  hat  of  gauze!  I  shall  wear 
pompadour  gloves  and  shall  take  no  notice  of  you,  with  your 
big  hands  and  feet,  pardieu!" 

"  Nor  I  of  you,"  said  I,  "  tricked  out  in  your  silly  flum 
mery."  And  I  drew  a  caraway  from  my  pocket  and  bit  deep. 

"Yes,  you  will,"  said  Silver  Heels;  "give  me  a  caraway, 

piggy." 

Sitting  there  in  the  dark,  nibbling  in  silence,  I  could  hear 
the  distant  stir  of  the  convoy  at  the  barracks,  and  wondered 
why  the  soldiers  had  come.  Surely  not  because  of  danger  to 
us  at  the  Hall,  for  we  had  our  Mohawks,  our  militia,  and  yeo 
man  tenantry  at  beck  and  call.  Besides,  who  would  dare 
threaten  Sir  William  Johnson,  the  greatest  man  in  the 
colonies,  and  very  dearly  esteemed  by  our  King  ? 

"  They  say,"  said  Silver  Heels,  "  that  there  are  men  in 
Boston  who  have  even  defied  the  King  himself." 

"  Never  fear,"  said  I,  "  they'll  all  hang  for  it." 

"  Would  you  like  to  fight  for  the  King  ?"  she  asked,  civilly, 
and  without  a  trace  of  that  mockery  which  left  a  sting,  much 
as  I  pretended  to  despise  it. 

I  said  I  should  like  to  very  much ;  that  my  father  had  died 
for  his  3£ing,  and  that  I  should  one  day  avenge  him. 

I  would  have  said  more,  perhaps  boasted,  for  Silver  Heels 
was  inclined  to  listen;  but  black  Betty  came  down-stairs,  her 
double  ear-rings  a-jingle,  calling  her  "  li'l  Miss  Honey-bee  " 
to  come  to  bed. 

Silver  Heels  stood  up,  rubbing  her  eyes  and  stretching.  I 
could  not  help  noticing  that  she  seemed  to  be  growing  very 
tall. 

"  Good-night,  Micky,"  she  said,  with  her  mechanical  curt 
sey,  and  took  Betty's  black  hand. 

Although  there  was  now  nobody  to  bid  me  retire,  I  went 
to  my  chamber  gladly,  for,  what  with  the  excitement  of  the 
morning,  the  arrival  of  the  Cayuga,  and,  later,  the  soldiers — 
and  also,  I  think,  Sir  William's  sherry — my  head  was  tired 
and  confused. 

I  slept  none  too  soundly.  Dreams  came  crowding  around 

42 


CAEDIGAN 

my  pillow;  visions  of  Mr.  Butler  chasing  Silver  Heels  awoke 
me. 

I  sat  up  in  my  bed  and  parted  the  curtains.  Through  the 
window  I  could  see  the  watchful  eyes  of  Indian  fires  glim 
mering  from  hill  and  hollow,  and  over  all  the  little  stars,  all 
awake,  watching  the  sleeping  world. 

A  cock  began  crowing  somewhere  down  in  the  village,  al 
though  no  tint  of  dawn  appeared.  But  the  crickets  had 
ceased,  and  the  stars  grew  paler,  and  that  silence  which  is 
the  dawn's  true  herald  warned  me  to  sleep  again  ere  the 
red  sun  should  steal  over  the  edge  of  the  world  and  catch 
me  waking. 

Then  I  slept  soundly,  and  the  sly  sun  had  painted  many  a 
figure  on  my  walls  ere  I  waked  to  hear  the  bugle  playing  at 
the  barracks,  and  Sir  William's  hounds  baying  in  their 
kennels. 

Dub !  dub !  rub-a-dub-dub !    Dub !  dub !  rub-a-dub-dub ! 

The  guard  was  changing  at  the  block-house,  while  I,  all 
shivers,  dashed  cold  water  over  me  from  head  to  foot  and 
rubbed  my  limbs  into  a  tingle. 

How  sweetly  came  the  matins  of  the  robins!  A  kennel- 
lad,  standing  in  the  sunshine  by  the  stables,  wound  his  hunt 
ing-horn  till  the  deep-jowled  hounds  drowned  all  with  their 
baying. 

In  breeches  and  shirt  I  leaned  from  the  open  window 
to  smell  the  young  year,  and  saw  Silver  Heels's  head  at  the 
next  window,  her  hair  in  her  eyes,  and  bare  arms  propping 
her  chin. 

She  put  out  her  tongue  at  me,  but  I  bade  her  good-morning 
so  civilly  that  she  smiled  and  asked  me  if  I  had  slept  well. 

"No,"  said  I;  "dreams  disturbed  me." 

"It  was  the  cakes  and  sherry,"  she  observed,  with  a  gri 
mace. 

"  I  also  dreamed,  and  screamed  until  Betty  came  and 
rocked  me  in  her  arms.  Which  proves,"  she  added,  "  that  we 
are  both  too  young  to  dine  and  wine  imprudently.  I  am 
coming  in  to  tell  you  what  I  dreamed.  Open  the  door." 

She  entered,  bundled  in  a  wool  blanket,  and  sat  cross- 
legged  on  the  bed,  chattering  of  her  dreams,  how,  in  her 
sleep,  she  saw  me  mammocked  by  savages,  among  them 

43 


CAKDIGAN 

Peter,  who  had  grown  big  and  sly  and  fierce  like  a  fat  bear 
cub  in  December. 

Meanwhile  I  made  of  my  hair  a  neat  queue  and  tied  it; 
then  put  on  my  buckskin  vest  with  flaps,  and  my  short  hunt 
ing-shirt  over  it. 

"  Are  you  going  to  fish?"  asked  Silver  Heels,  enviously. 

"  If  Sir  William  does,"  said  I.  "  He  sent  me  a  present 
from  Castle  Cumberland  last  night.  I  doubt  not  that  it 
may  be  a  new  fish-rod  for  salmon." 

Presently  she  went  away  to  be  dressed  by  Betty,  and  I 
hastened  down  the  stairs,  impatient  to  find  Mr.  Duncan  and 
have  my  present;  nay,  so  fast  and  blindly  did  I  speed  that, 
swinging  around  the  balustrade,  I  plumped  clean  into  Sir 
William,  coming  up. 

"  What's  to  do !  What's  to  do !"  he  exclaimed,  testily.  "  Is 
there  no  gout  in  the  world,  then,  wooden  feet !" 

"  Oh,  Sir  William !  My  present  from  Castle  Cumberland !" 
I  stammered.  "  Is  it  a  salmon-rod  ?" 

"  Now  the  wraith  of  old  Isaac  pinch  ye !"  said  Sir  William, 
half  laughing,  half  angry.  "What  the  devil  have  I  to  do 
with  your  presents  and  your  fish-rods  ?  Presents !  Gad !  It's 
a  new  algebra  you  need !" 

"  You  promised  not  to,"  said  I,  stoutly. 

"Did  I?"  said  Sir  William,  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eyes. 
"  So  I  did,  lad ;  so  I  did !  Well,  perhaps  it  is  not  an  algebra 
book  after  all." 

"  Then  let  us  go  to  Mr.  Duncan  and  get  it  now,"  I  replied, 
promptly. 

"  You  may  not  want  my  present  when  you  see  it,"  argued 
Sir  William,  who  did  ever  enjoy  to  plague  those  whom  he 
loved  best. 

But  I  pulled  him  by  the  hand,  and  he  pretended  to  go  with 
reluctance  and  many  misgivings. 

At  the  door  of  the  north  block-house,  Mr.  Duncan  ren 
dered  Sir  William  the  officer's  salute,  which  Sir  William  re 
turned. 

"  Mr.  Duncan,"  said  he,  "  have  you  knowledge  hereabouts  of 
a  certain  present  sent  in  your  care  for  Mr.  Cardigan  here?" 
•  "Now  that  you  mention  it,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Duncan, 
gravely,  "  I  do  dimly  recall  something  of  the  sort." 

44 


CARDIGAN 

"  Was  it  not  a  school-book?"  inquired  Sir  William. 

"  It  was  a  parcel,"  replied  Mr.  Duncan,  dubiously ;  "  be 
like  it  hid  a  dozen  good  stout  Latin  books,  sir." 

I  endured  their  plaguing  with  rising  excitement.  What 
could  my  present  be  ? 

"  Take  him  in,  Mr.  Duncan,"  said  Sir  William  at  last. 
"And,"  to  me,  "remember,  sir,  that  you  forget  not  your 
manners  when  you  return  to  me,  for  I  shall  await  you  here 
at  the  door." 

Cramping  with  curiosity,  I  followed  Mr.  Duncan  into  his 
own  private  chamber,  which  connected  with  the  guard-room. 
But  I  saw  no  parcels  anywhere;  in  fact,  there  was  nothing 
to  be  noticed  save  an  officer's  valise  at  the  foot  of  Mr.  Dun 
can's  bed. 

"  It  is  for  you,"  he  said ;  "  open  it." 

At  the  same  moment  I  perceived  my  own  name  painted  on 
the  leather  side,  and  the  next  instant  I  had  stripped  the  lid 
back.  Buff  and  gold  and  scarlet  swam  the  colours  of  the 
clothing  before  my  amazed  eyes ;  I  put  out  a  trembling  hand 
and  drew  an  officer's  vest  from  the  valise. 

"  Here  are  the  boots,  Mr.  Cardigan,"  said  the  lieutenant, 
lifting  a  pair  of  dress  boots  from  behind  a  curtain.  "  Here 
is  the  hat  and  sword,  too,  and  a  holster  with  pistols." 

"Mine!"  I  gasped. 

"  By  this  commission  of  our  Governor,"  said  Mr.  Duncan, 
solemnly,  drawing  from  his  breast  a  parchment  with  seal 
and  tape.  "  Mr.  Cardigan,  let  me  be  the  first  to  welcome  you 
as  a  brother  officer." 

I  had  gone  so  blind  with  happy  tears  that  I  scarce  could 
find  his  kind,  warm  hand  outstretched,  nor  could  I  decipher 
the  commission  as  cornet  of  horse  in  the  Royal  Border  Regi 
ment  of  irregulars. 

He  mercifully  left  me  then,  and  I  stood  with  head  pinched 
in  my  fingers,  striving  to  realize  what  had  arrived  to  me. 

But  I  did  not  tarry  long  to  gape  and  devour  my  uniform 
with  my  eyes.  One  after  another  my  hunting-shirt,  vest, 
leggings,  shoon,  flew  from  me.  I  pulled  on  the  buff  breeches, 
and  laced  them  tight,  drew  on  the  boots,  set  the  vest  close 
and  buttoned  it,  then  put  on  coat  and  hat,  and  lastly  tied 
my  silver  gorget. 

45 


CARDIGAN 

What  I  could  see  of  myself  in  Mr.  Duncan's  glass  left  me 
dazed  with  admiration.  I  set  my  sword  belt,  hung  the  sword 
with  one  glove  in  the  hilt,  and  so,  walking  on  air,  I  passed 
the  guard-room  with  all  the  soldiers  at  stiff  attention,  and 
came  to  Sir  William. 

He  looked  up  sharply,  without  the  familiar  smile.  But  my 
wits  were  at  work  and  I  stopped  short  at  three  paces,  heels 
together,  and  gave  the  officer's  salute. 

Sir  William's  lips  twitched  as  he  rendered  the  salute,  then, 
casting  his  ivory  cane  on  the  grass,  he  stepped  forward  with 
arms  outstretched,  and  I  fell  into  them  like  a  blubbering 
schoolboy. 

To  those  contented  and  peaceful  people  who  have  never 
known  that  gnawing  desire  for  the  noblest  of  all  professions, 
the  soldier's,  I  can  only  say  that  I  was  contented.  To  those 
who  themselves  have  known  the  longing  it  is  needless  to  de 
scribe  my  happiness  and  pride,  my  gratitude  to  those  who 
had  honoured  me,  my  impetuous  thirst  for  service,  my  resolve 
to  set  heart  and  soul  towards  high  ideals  and  thoughts,  my 
solemn  boyish  prayers  that  I  might  conduct  nobly  in  the 
eyes  of  all  men,  for  God  and  King  and  country. 

Something  of  my  thoughts  may  have  disclosed  themselves 
in  my  face  as  Sir  William  laid  both  hands  on  my  shoulders, 
for  he  looked  at  me  a  long  while  with  kindly,  steady  eyes. 
His  countenance  was  serene  and  benign  when  he  spoke  in 
that  clear  voice  whose  harmony  and  perfect  cadence  has 
charmed  a  thousand  council  fires,  and  turned  feverish  spleen 
and  hatred  into  forbearance  and  reconciliation. 

"  My  boy,"  he  said,  "  the  key  to  it  all  is  faith.  Keep  faith 
with  all  men;  keep  faith  with  thyself.  This  wins  all  bat 
tles,  even  the  greatest  and  last !" 

Very  soberly  we  returned  to  the  Hall,  where  a  small  com 
pany  were  assembled  for  breakfast — Mistress  Molly,  Major 
Wilkes  of  the  battalion  which  arrived  the  night  before,  Cap 
tains  Priestly,  Borrow,  and  McNeil,  of  the  same  regiment,  my 
friend  Lieutenant  Duncan  of  the  militia,  and  Silver  Heels. 

When  Sir  William  and  I  entered  the  Hall  the  officers  came 
to  pay  their  respects  to  the  Baronet,  and  I,  red  as  a  Dutch 
pippin,  crossed  the  room  to  where  Mistress  Molly  stood  with 
Silver  Heels. 

46 


CARDIGAN 

Bending  to. salute  her  hand,  cocked  hat  crushed  under  one 
arm,  I  discharged  my  duties  with  what  composure  I  could 
command;  but  Mistress  Molly  put  both  arms  around  me  and 
kissed  me  on  both  cheeks. 

"I  knew  all  about  it,"  she  whispered.  "We  are  very 
proud,  Sir  William  and  I.  Be  tender  and  faithful.  It  is  all 
we  ask." 

Dear,  dear  Aunt  Molly!  While  life  lasts  can  I  ever  for 
get  those  sweet,  grave  wrords  of  love,  spoken  to  a  boy  who 
stood  alone  on  the  threshold  of  life  ? 

Slowly  I  turned  to  look  at  Silver  Heels,  all  my  vanity, 
conceit,  and  condescension  vanished. 

She  had  turned  quite  pale;  her  eyes  seemed  set  and  fas 
cinated,  and  she  wished  me  happiness  in  a  low  voice,  as 
though  uncertain  of  her  own  words. 

Chilled  by  her  lifeless  greeting,  I  returned  to  Sir  William, 
who  presented  me  to  the  guests  with  unconcealed  pride : 

"  My  kinsman,  Mr.  Cardigan,  gentlemen ;  Captain  Cardi 
gan's  only  son !" 

The  officers,  all  in  full  dress,  brilliant  with  the  red,  green, 
and  gold  of  the  Royal  Americans,  greeted  me  most  kindly, 
some  claiming  acquaintance  with  my  honoured  father,  and  all 
speaking  of  his  noble  death  before  Quebec. 

Before  we  sat  at  table,  they  gave  me  a  standing  toast,  all 
touching  glasses  with  me,  and  Sir  William,  smiling,  with  one 
arm  around  my  shoulder. 

So  we  sat  down  to  breakfast,  a  breakfast  I,  being  excited, 
scarcely  tasted;  but  I  listened  with  all  my  ears  to  the  dis 
course  touching  the  late  troubles  in  New  York  and  Massa 
chusetts,  concerning  the  importation  of  tea  by  the  East  India 
Company.  The  discussion  soon  became  a  monologue,  for 
the  subject  was  one  which  Sir  William  understood  from  A 
to  Zed,  and  his  eloquence  upon  it  had  amazed  and  irritated 
people  of  more  importance  than  our  Governor  Tryon  himself. 

"Look  you,"  said  Sir  William,  in  his  clear  voice  like  a 
bell;  "look  you,  gentlemen;  I  yield  to  no  man  in  loyalty 
and  love  to  my  "King;  but  this  I  know  and  dare  maintain 
here  or  at  St.  James:  that  his  Majesty  whom  I  serve  and 
honour  is  misled  by  his  ministers,  and  neither  he  nor  they 
suspect  the  truth  concerning  these  colonies !" 

47 


CARDIGAN 

The  officers  were  all  attention,  some  leaning  forward  to 
lose  no  word  or  inflection ;  Mistress  Molly  poured  the  roundly 
abused  tea,  and  her  gentle  dark  eyes  ever  stole  proudly 
towards  Sir  William. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Sir  William,  blandly,  "  you  all  are 
aware  that  since  last  December  the  Atlantic  Ocean  is  become 
but  a  vast  pot  of  cold  tea." 

The  laughter  which  followed  sounded  to  me  a  trifle  strain 
ed,  as  well  it  might  be,  considering  the  insolence  of  the  people 
who  had  flung  this  defiance  into  the  King's  ocean. 

"  Very  well,"  said  Sir  William,  with  that  tight  crease  run 
ning  around  his  jaw  which  meant  his  mind  was  made  up. 
"  This  is  the  true  history  of  that  trouble,  gentlemen.  Judge 
for  yourselves  where  lies  the  blame."  And,  leaning  back  in 
his  chair,  one  hand  lifted,  he  began : 

"  That  damned  East  India  Company,  floundering  about 
with  the  non-importation  pill  in  its  gullet,  found  itself  owing 
the  government  fourteen  hundred  thousand  pounds,  with 
seventeen  million  pounds  of  unsold  tea  on  its  hands. 

"  Nobody  likes  bankruptcy,  so  off  go  the  East  India  gen 
tlemen  with  their  petition  to  Parliament  for  permission  to 
export  their  tea  to  America,  free  of  duty,  and  so  put  it  in  the 
power  of  the  company  to  sell  tea  here  cheaper  than  in  Eng 
land.  And  now  I  ask  you,  gentlemen,  whether  in  all  these 
broad  colonies  there  are  not  some  few  men  whose  motives 
are  other  than  sordid  ? 

"  Your  answers  must  be  '  yes !' — because  the  colonists  them 
selves  so  answered  when  they  burned  the  Gaspee! — when  they 
gathered  at  Griffin's  wharf  and  made  tea  enough  for  the 
world  to  drink! — when  John  Lamb  set  his  back  to  the  port 
cullis  of  the  fort  and  the  tea  commissioners  ran  like  rabbits ! 

"  God  forbid  that  I,  a  humble  loyal  subject  of  my  King, 
should  ever  bear  out  the  work  of  rebels  or  traitors.  But  I 
solemnly  say  to  you  that  the  rebels  and  traitors  are  not  the 
counterfeit  Indians  of  Griffin's  wharf,  not  the  men  who  fired 
the  Gaspee  aflame  from  sprit  to  topmast,  not  that  man  who 
set  his  back  to  the  fort  in  New  York!  But  they  are  those 
who  whisper  evil  to  my  King  at  St.  James — and  may  God 
have  mercy  on  their  souls !" 

In  the  silence  which  followed,  Sir  William  leaned  forward, 

4,8 


CARDIGAN 

his  heavy  chin  set  on  his  fists,  his  eyes  looking  into  the  future 
which  he  alone  saw  so  clearly. 

None  durst  interrupt  him.  The  officers  watched  him  si 
lently — this  great  man — this  great  Irishman  who  had  been 
the  sole  architect  of  his  own  greatness;  this  great  American 
who  saw  what  we,  even  now,  cannot  see  as  clearly  as  did  he. 

There  he  sat,  dumb,  eyes  on  vacancy;  a  plain  man,  a 
Baronet  of  the  British  realm,  a  member  of  the  King's  Coun 
cil,  a  major-general  of  militia,  and  the  superintendent  of  the 
Indian  Department  in  North  America. 

A  plain  man;  but  a  vast  land-holder,  the  one  man  in 
America  trusted  blindly  by  the  Indians,  a  man  whose  influ 
ence  was  enormous;  a  man  who  was  as  simple  as  a  maid,  as 
truthful  as  a  child,  as  kind  as  the  Samaritan  who  passed  not 
on  the  other  side. 

A  plain  man,  but  a  prophet. 


There  was  a  step  at  the  door;  Mr.  Duncan  spoke  in  a  low 
tone  with  the  orderly,  then  returned  to  Sir  William. 

"  The  Indian  belt-bearer  is  at  the  block-house,  sir,"  he  said. 

Sir  William  rose.  The  officers  made  their  adieux  and  left. 
Only  Sir  William,  Mistress  Molly,  Silver  Heels,  and  I  re 
mained  in  the  dining-hall. 

The  Baronet  looked  across  at  Mistress  Molly,  and  a  sad 
smile  touched  his  eyes. 

She  took  Silver  Heels  by  the  hand  and  quietly  left  the 
room. 

"Michael,"  said  Sir  William;  "listen  closely,  but  remain 
silent  concerning  what  this  belt-bearer  has  to  say.  My  honour 
is  at  stake,  my  son.  Promise !" 

"  I  promise,  sir,"  said  I,  under  my  breath. 

The  next  moment  the  door  behind  me  opened  and  the 
Indian  stole  into  the  room. 


CHAPTER   IV 

1NOW  for  the  first  time  obtained  a  distinct  view  of  the 
stranger  as  he  stepped  forward,  throwing  the  blanket  from 
him,  and  stood  revealed,  stark  naked  save  for  clout  and 
pouch,  truly  a  superb  figure,  and  perfect,  in  the  Greek  sense, 
barring  that  racial  leanness  below  knee  and  calf,  and  the 
sinewy  feet  planted  parallel  instead  of  diverging,  as  in  our 
race. 

But  so  splendid  was  his  presence  that  Sir  William,  stand 
ing  to  receive  him,  unconsciously  raised  his  chin  and  squared 
his  shoulders  as  though  bracing  for  a  trial  of  strength  with 
this  tall  red  forester  from  the  West. 

For  a  space  they  stood  face  to  face  in  silence;  then  the 
belt-bearer,  looking  warily  around  at  the  empty  room,  asked 
why  Chief  Warragh  received  his  brother  alone. 

"  My  brother  comes  alone,"  replied  Sir  William,  with  em 
phasis.  "  It  is  the  custom  of  the  Cayuga  to  send  three  with 
each  belt.  Does  my  brother  bear  but  a  fragment  of  one 
belt?  Or  does  he  think  us  of  little  consequence  that  he 
comes  without  attestants  ?" 

"  I  bear  three  belts,"  said  the  Indian,  haughtily.  "  Nine 
of  my  people  started  from  the  Ohio ;  I  alone  live." 

Sir  William  bowed  gravely;  and,  motioning  me  to  be  seat 
ed,  drew  up  an  arm-chair  of  velvet  and  sat  down,  folding  his 
arms  in  silence. 

Then,  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  I  sat  at  a  figurative- 
council  fire  and  listened  to  an  orator  of  those  masters  of 
oratory,  the  peoples  of  the  Six  Nations. 

Dignified,  chary  of  gesture,  clean,  yet  somewhat  sad  and 
over-grave  of  speech,  the  Cayuga,  facing  the  Baronet,  re 
lated  briefly  his  name,  Quider,  which  in  Iroquois  means 
Peter;  his  tribe,  which  was  the  tribe  of  the  Wolf,  the  totem 
being  plain  on  his  breast.  He  spoke  of  his  journey  from  the 

50 


CARDIGAN 

Ohio,  the  loss  of  the  eight  who  had  started  with  him;  all 
dying  from  the  small-pox  within  a  week.  He  spoke  respect 
fully  of  Sir  William  as  the  one  man  who  had  protected  the 
Six  Nations  from  unjust  laws,  from  incursions,  from  white 
men's  violence  and  deception.  He  admitted  that  Sir  William 
was  the  only  man  in  America  who  to-day  retained  the  abso 
lute  trust  and  confidence  of  the  Indians,  adding  that  it  was 
for  this  reason  that  he  had  come. 

And  then  he  began  his  brief  speech,  drawing  from  his 
pouch  a  black  belt  of  wampum: 

"Brother:  With  this  belt  we  breathe  upon  the  embers 
which  are  asleep,  and  we  cause  the  council  fire  to  burn  in 
this  place  and  on  the  Ohio,  which  are  our  proper  fireplaces. 
With  this  belt  we  sweep  this  fireplace  clean,  removing  from 
it  all  that  is  impure,  that  we  may  sit  around  it  as  brothers." 
(A  belt  of  seven  rows.} 

"Brother:  The  unhappy  oppression  of  our  brethren  by 
Colonel  Cresap's  men,  near  the  Ohio  carrying-place,  is  the 
occasion  for  our  coming  here.  Our  nation  would  not  be  at 
rest,  nor  easy,  until  they  had  spoken  to  you  about  it.  They 
have  now  spoken — with  this  belt !" 

{A  black  and  white  belt.} 

"Brother:  What  are  we  to  do?  Lord  Dunmore  will  not 
hear  us.  Colonel  Cresap  and  his  men,  to  whom  we  have  done 
no  harm,  are  coming  to  clear  the  forest  and  cross  our  free 
path  which  lies  from  Saint  Sacrement  to  the  Ohio,  and  which 
path  our  brother's  belts,  which  we  still  possess,  have  long 
since  swept  clear.  What  shall  we  do  ?  Instead  of  polishing 
our  knives  we  have  come  to  our  brother  Warragh.  Instead 
of  seeking  our  kin  the  Mohawk  and  the  Oneida  with  painted 
war  belts  to  throw  between  us  and  them,  we  come  to  our 
brother  and  ask  him,  by  this  belt,  what  is  left  for  us  to  do? 
Our  brothers  have  taught  us  there  is  a  God.  Teach  us  He 
is  a  just  God— by  this  belt !" 

(A  black  belt  of  five  rows.} 

During  this  speech  Sir  William  sat  as  still  as  death,  neither 
by  glance  nor  gesture  nor  change  of  colour  betraying  the  sur 
prise,  indignation,  and  alarm  which  this  exposure  of  Colonel 
Cresap's  doings  caused  him. 

As  for  me,  I,  of  course,  vaguely  understood  the  breach  of 

51 


CARDIGAN 

faith  committed  by  Colonel  Cresap  in  invading  the  land  of 
our  allies,  and  the  danger  we  might  run  should  this  Cayuga 
chief  go  to  our  Mohawks  and  Oneidas  with  war-belts  and 
inflammatory  appeals  for  vengeance  on  Cresap  and  his  men. 

That  he  had  instead  come  to  us,  braving  all  dangers,  losing 
indeed  all  his  comrades,  on  this  mission  of  peace,  most  splen 
didly  attested  to  the  power  and  influence  of  Sir  William 
among  these  savages  whose  first  instinct  is  to  draw  the 
hatchet  and  begin  the  horrid  vengeance  which  they  consider 
their  right  when  unjustly  molested. 

It  is  seldom  the  custom  to  reply  to  a  speech  before  the 
following  day.  Custom  and  tradition  rule  among  the  Six 
Nations.  Deliberation  and  profound  reflection  they  give  to 
all  spokesmen  who  petition  them,  and  they  require  it  in 
turn,  regarding  with  suspicion  and  contempt  a  hasty  reply, 
which,  they  consider,  indicates  either  premeditated  treachery, 
or  a  shallow  mind  incapable  of  weighty  and  mature  reflection. 

I  was  prepared,  therefore,  when  Sir  William,  holding  in 
his  right  hand  the  three  belts  of  wampum,  rose  and  thanked 
the  Cayuga  for  his  talk,  praising  him  and  his  tribe  for  re 
sorting  to  arbitration  instead  of  the  hatchet,  and  promising 
an  answer  on  the  morrow. 

The  Cayuga  listened  in  silence,  then  resuming  his  blanket 
turned  on  his  heel  and  passed  slowly  and  noiselessly  from 
the  room,  leaving  Sir  William  standing  beside  the  arm 
chair,  and  me  erect  in  the  embrasure  of  the  casement. 

Now,  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  I  saw  a  trace  of  physical 
decline  in  my  guardian.  His  hand,  holding  the  belts,  had 
fallen  a-trembling;  he  made  a  feeble  gesture  for  me  to  be 
seated,  and  sank  back  into  his  arm-chair,  listless  eyes  on  the 
floor,  absently  running  his  fingers  over  the  polished  belts. 

"At  sixty,"  he  said,  as  though  to  himself,  "strong  men 
should  be  in  that  mellow  prime  to  which  a  sober  life  con 
ducts." 

After  a  moment  he  went  on :  "  My  life  has  been  sober 
and  without  excess — but  hard !  very  hard !  I  am  an  old  man ; 
a  tired  old  man." 

Looking  up  to  meet  my  eyes,  he  smiled,  wratching  the  sym 
pathy  which  twitched  my  face. 

"  All  these  wars !  All  these  wars !  Thirty  years  of  war !" 

52 


CAKDIGAN 

he  murmured,  caressing  the  belts  and  letting  them  slip 
through  his  fingers  like  smooth  shining  serpents.  "  War  with 
the  French,  war  with  the  Maquas,the  Hurons,the  Shawanese, 
the  Ojibways!  War  in  the  Canadas,  war  in  the  Carolinas, 
war  east  and  west  and  north  and  south!  And — I  am  tired." 

He  flung  the  slippery  belts  to  the  floor,  where  they  twisted 
and  coiled  up  in  a  heap. 

"  I  have  worked  with  my  hands,"  he  said.  "  This  land 
has  drunk  the  sweat  of  my  body.  I  have  not  spared  myself 
in  sickness  or  in  health.  My  eyes  are  dim ;  I  have  used  them 
by  day,  by  starlight,  by  the  glimmer  of  moons  long  dead,  by 
candle-wood,  by  torch,  by  the  flicker  of  smoke  from  green 
fires. 

"  My  arms  are  tired ;  I  have  hewn  forests  away ;  my  limbs 
ache ;  I  have  journeyed  far  through  snow,  through  heat,  from 
the  Canadas  to  the  Gulf — all  my  life  I  have  journeyed  on 
business  for  other  men — for  men  I  have  never  seen,  and  shall 
never  see — men  yet  to  be  born !" 

There  came  a  flush  of  earnest  colour  into  his  face.  He 
leaned  forward  towards  me,  elbow  resting  on  the  table,  hand 
outstretched. 

"  Why,  look  you,  Michael,"  he  said,  with  childlike  eager 
ness;  "  I  found  a  wilderness  and  I  leave  a  garden!  Look  at 
the  valley!  Can  England  grow  such  grain?  Look  at  Tryon 
County!  Look  at  this  Province  of  New  York?  Ay — look 
farther — wherever  my  Indians  have  set  their  boundaries! 
There  are  roads,  lad,  roads  where  I  found  runways;  turn 
pikes  where  I  followed  Mohawk  trails;  mills  turning  where 
the  wild-cat  squatted,  fishing  with  big  flat  paws !  Lad,  you 
cannot  recall  it,  yet  this  village  was  but  a  carrying-place 
when  I  came.  Look  at  it ;  look  from  the  window,  lad !  Is  it 
not  fair  and  pretty  to  the  eye?  One  hundred  and  eighty 
families!  Three  churches,  counting  my  new  stone  church; 
a  free  school,  a  court-house,  a  jail,  barracks — all  built  by  me; 
stores  with  red  and  blue  swinging  signs,  bravely  painted,  inns 
with  the  good  green  bush  a-swing !  Listen  to  the  cock-crows ; 
listen  to  the  barking!  Might  it  not  be  a  Devonshire  town? 
Ah — I  forgot;  you  have  never  seen  old  England." 

Smiling  still,  kind  eyes  dreaming,  his  head  sank  a  little, 
and  he  clasped  his  hands  in  his  lap. 

53 


CAKDIGAN 

"  Lad,"  he  said,  softly,  "  the  English  hay  smells  sweet,  but 
not  so  sweet  as  the  Mohawk  Valley  hay  to  me.  This  is  my 
country — my  country  first,  last,  and  all  the  time.  I  am  too 
old  to  change  where  in  my  youth  I  took  root  among  these 
hills.  To  transplant  me  means  my  end." 

The  sunlight  stole  into  the  room  through  leaded  diamond- 
panes  and  fell  across  his  knees  like  a  golden  robe.  The 
music  from  the  robins  in  the  orchard  filled  my  ears;  soft 
winds  stirred  the  lace  on  Sir  William's  cuffs  and  collarette. 

Presently  he  roused,  shaking  the  dream  from  his  eyes; 
and,  watching  him,  it  seemed  to  me  I  could  see  the  very  tide 
of  life  swelling  flesh  and  muscle  into  new  vigour.  The  colour 
came  back  into  his  face  and  hands ;  the  light  grew  in  his  eyes. 

"  Come !"  he  said,  in  a  voice  that  had  lost  its  tremour. 
"Life  has  but  one  meaning — to  go  on,  ever  on,  lad!  'Tis 
a  long  doze  awaits  us  at  the  journey's  end."  And  he  fumbled 
for  his  snuff-box  and  lace  hanker,  blowing  a  vigorous  blast 
and  exclaiming,  "Aha!  Ho!"  in  deep  tones  which,  when 
very  young,  awed  me. 

I  bent  and  picked  up  the  three  belts,  placing  them  on  the 
table  near  him. 

"  Thank  you,  Michael,"  he  said,  heartily ;  "  and  I  must 
say  that  in  this  matter  of  the  Cayuga,  you  have  conducted 
admirably.  Mr.  Duncan  has  told  me  all;  it  was  wisely  done. 
Had  you  received  the  Cayuga  with  less  welcome  or  more 
suspicion,  or  had  you  met  him  haughtily,  I  do  not  doubt  that 
he  would  have  made  mischief  for  me  among  my  Mohawks." 

"  He  had  war-sticks  painted  red,  in  his  pouch,  sir,"  I  re 
plied. 

"  No  doubt !  No  doubt !  And  a  red  war-belt,  too,  belike ! 
They  were  meant  for  my  Mohawks  had  he  met  with  a  rebuff 
here.  Oh,  I  know  them,  Michael,  I  know  them.  A  painted 
war-belt  flung  between  that  Cayuga  and  the  sachems  of  my 
Mohawks  would  have  set  the  whole  Six  Nations — save,  per 
haps,  the  Oneidas — a-shining  up  rifle  and  hatchet  for  Cresap 
and  his  men !" 

Sir  William  struck  the  mahogany  table  with  clinched  fist. 

"  Damn  Cresap !"  he  bawled,  in  one  of  his  familiar  fits  of 
fury — fits  which  were  never  witnessed  outside  his  family  cir 
cle.  "Damn  the  fatuous  fool  to  go  a-meddling  with  the 

54 


CARDIGAN 

Cayugas  in  their  own  lands,  held  by  them  in  solemn  covenant 
forever  inviolate !  What  does  the  sorry  ass  want  ?  A  border 
war,  with  all  this  trouble  betwixt  King  and  colonies  hatching  ? 
Does  Colonel  Cresap  not  know  that  a  single  scalp  taken  from 
the  Cayugas  will  set  the  Six  Nations  on  fire — ay,  the  Lenape, 
too?" 

Sir  William  slapped  the  table  again  with  the  flat  of  his 
hand. 

"Look,  Michael;  should  war  come  betwixt  King  and  col 
onies,  neither  King  nor  colonies  should  forget  that  our  fron 
tiers  are  crowded  with  thousands  of  savages  who,  if  adroitly 
treated,  will  remain  neutral  and  inoffensive.  Yet  here  is 
this  madman  Cresap,  on  the  very  eve  of  a  struggle  with  the 
greatest  power  in  the  world,  turning  the  savages  against  the 
colonies  by  his  crazy  pranks  on  the  Ohio !" 

"  But,"  said  I,  "  in  his  blindness  and  folly,  Colonel  Cresap 
is  throwing  into  our  arms  these  very  savages  as  allies !" 

Sir  William  stopped  short  and  stared  at  me  with  cold, 
steady  eyes. 

"  Michael,"  said  he,  presently,  "  when  this  war  comes — as 
surely  it  will  come — choose  which  cause  you  will  embrace,  and 
then  stand  by  it  to  the  end.  As  for  me,  I  cannot  believe  that 
God  would  let  me  live  to  see  such  a  war ;  that  He  would  leave 
me  to  choose  between  the  King  who  has  honoured  me  and 
mine  own  people  in  this  dear  land  of  mine!" 

He  raised  his  head  and  passed  one  hand  over  his  eyes. 

"  But  should  He  in  His  wisdom  demand  that  I  choose — 
and  if  the  sorrow  kills  me  not — then,  when  the  time  comes,  I 
shall  choose." 

"  Which  way,  sir  ?"  I  said,  in  a  sort  of  gasp. 

But  he  only  answered,  "  Wait !" 

Stupefied,  I  watched  him.  It  had  never  entered  my  head 
that  there  could  be  any  course  save  unquestioned  loyalty  to 
the  King  in  all  things;  that  there  could  be  any  doubt  or 
hesitation  or  pondering  or  praying  for  light  when  it  came 
time  to  choose  between  King  and  rebel. 

I  now  recalled  what  Sir  William  had  said  to  me  in  the 
school-room.  Putting  this  with  what  he  now  said,  or  left 
unsaid,  together  with  his  anger  at  Colonel  Cresap  for  en 
dangering  the  peace  betwixt  the  Indians  and  the  colonies,  I 

55 


CARDIGAN 

came  to  the  frightened  conclusion  that  Sir  William's  loyalty 
might  be  questioned.  But  by  whom?  Who  in  America  was 
great  enough  to  call  Sir  William  to  account  ?  Not  Governor 
Tryon ;  not  Lord  Dunmore ;  not  General  Gage. 

Feeling  as  though  the  bottom  had  fallen  out  of  some 
thing,  I  sat  there,  my  fascinated  eyes  never  leaving  Sir 
William's  sombre  face. 

What  then  were  these  tea-hating  rebels  that  Sir  William 
should  defend  them  at  breakfast  and  in  the  faces  of  half  a 
dozen  of  his  Majesty's  officers?  I  knew  nothing  of  the  trou 
bles  in  Massachusetts  save  from  soldiers'  talk  or  the  gossip 
of  the  townsmen,  most  of  them  being  tenants  of  Sir  William. 
I  had  heard  vaguely  about  one  turbulent  fellow  named  Han 
cock,  and  a  mischief -making  jack-at-all-trades  called  Frank 
lin.  I  knew  that  the  trouble  concerned  taxes,  but  as  all  this 
bother  appeared  to  be  about  a  few  pennies,  and  as  I  myself 
never  wanted  for  money,  I  had  little  sympathy  for  people 
who  made  such  an  ado  about  a  shilling  or  two.  Moreover,  if 
the  King  needed  money,  the  idea  of  not  placing  one's  all  at 
his  Majesty's  disposal  seemed  contemptible  to  me.  It  is  true 
that  I  had  never  earned  a  farthing  in  all  my  life,  and  so  had 
nothing  to  offer  my  sovereign,  save  what  fortune  my  father 
had  left  in  trust  for  me.  It  is  also  true  that  I  knew  nothing 
of  the  value  of  money,  having  neither  earned  it  nor  wanted 
for  it. 

Something  of  these  thoughts  may  have  been  easily  read  in 
my  face,  for  Sir  William  said,  with  some  abruptness : 

"  It  is  not  money;  it  is  principle  that  men  fight  for." 

I  was  startled,  although  Sir  William  sometimes  had  a  way 
of  rounding  out  my  groping  thoughts  with  sudden  spoken 
words  which  made  me  fear  him. 

"  Well,  well,"  he  said,  laughing  and  rising  to  stretch  his 
cramped  limbs;  "this  is  enough  for  one  day,  Michael.  Let 
the  morrow  fret  for  itself,  lad.  Come,  smile  a  bit!  Shall 
we  have  a  holiday,  perhaps  the  last  for  many  a  month  ?  Nay, 
do  not  look  so  sober,  Micky.  Who  knows  what  will  come? 
Who  knows ;  who  knows  ?" 

"  I  shall  stand  by  you,  sir,  whatever  comes,"  said  I. 

But  Sir  William  only  smiled,  drawing  me  to  him,  one  arm 
about  me. 

56 


CAKDIGAN 

"  Suppose,"  said  he,  "  that  you  and  I  and  Mr.  Duncan  and 
Felicity  and  Peter  and  Esk  take  rods  and  bait  and  go  a-fish- 
ing  in  the  Kennyetto  by  Fonda's  Bush !" 

"  A  peg-down  fishing  match !"  cried  I,  enchanted. 

"  Ay,  a  peg-down  match,  and  the  prize  whatever  the  victor 
wills — in  reason.  What  say  you,  Michael  ?" 

I  was  about  to  assent  with  enthusiasm  when  something  oc 
curred  to  me  and  I  stopped. 

"  May  I  wear  my  uniform,  sir  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Gad !"  cried  Sir  William,  in  a  fit  of  laughter.  "  'Tis  a 
bolder  man  than  I  who  dare  separate  you  from  your  uni 
form!" 

"  Then  I'll  carry  my  pistols  and  go  a-horse !"  said  I,  de 
lighted. 

The  Baronet,  hands  clasped  behind  him,  nodded  absently. 
That  old  gray  colour  came  into  his  face  again,  and  he  lifted 
a  belt  from  the  table  and  studied  it  dreamily,  picking  at  the 
wampum  which  glowed  like  a  snake's  skin  in  the  sunshine. 


CHAPTER  V 

TO  Fonda's  Bush  it  is  a  good  ten  miles.    I  rode  Sir  Will 
iam's  great  horse,  Warlock,  who  plunged  and  danced  at 
the  slap  of  my  sword-scabbard  on  his  flanks,  and  welmigh 
shook  me  from  my  boots. 

"  Spare  spur,  lad !  Let  him  sniff  the  pistols !"  called  Sir 
William,  standing  up  in  the  broad  hay-wagon  to  observe  me. 
"  He  will  quiet  when  he  smells  the  priming,  Michael." 

I  drew  one  of  my  pistols  from  the  holster  and  allowed  War 
lock  to  sniff  it,  which  he  did,  arching  his  neck  and  pricking 
forward  two  wise  ears.  After  this  the  horse  and  I  under 
stood  each  other,  he  being  satisfied  that  it  was  a  real  officer 
he  bore  and  no  lout  pranked  out  to  shame  him  before  other 
horses. 

The  broad  flat  hay-wagon,  well  bedded  and  deep  in  rye- 
straw,  was  filled  with  the  company  on  fishing  bent;  Peter 
and  Esk  already  disputing  over  their  lines,  red  quills,  and 
bob-floats;  Silver  Heels,  in  flowered  cotton  damask  and  hair 
rolled  up  under  a  small  hat  of  straw,  always  observing  me 
with  lowered,  uncertain  eyes;  Mr.  Duncan,  in  fustian  coat 
and  leggings,  counting  out  fish-hooks ;  Sir  William,  in  yellow- 
and-brown  buckskin  and  scarlet-flowered  waistcoat,  singing 
lustily : 

"A-Maying! 
A-Maying ! 

Oh,  the  blackthorn  and  the  broom 
And  the  primrose  are  in  bloom!" 

Behind  the  wagon,  with  punch-jugs  swinging  on  his  saddle 
bags,  like  John  Gilpin  rode  young  Bareshanks  the  Scot,  all 
a-grin;  while  upon  either  side  of  the  wagon  two  mounted 
soldiers  trotted,  rifles  slung  and  hangers  sheathed. 

Thus  we  set  out  for  Fonda's  Bush,  which  is  a  vast  woods, 
cut  into  a  hundred  arabesques  by  the  Kennyetto,  a  stream 

58 


CAKDIGAN 

well  named,  for  in  the  Indian  language  it  means  "  Snake- 
with-its-tail-in-its-mouth,"  and,  although  it  flows  for  forty 
miles,  the  source  of  it  is  scarce  half  a  mile  from  the  mouth, 
where  it  empties  into  the  great  Vlaie  near  to  Sir  William's 
hunting-lodge. 

In  the  wagon  Sir  William  turned  to  the  windows  and 
waved  his  hat  at  Mistress  Molly,  who  stood  behind  the  nur 
sery  curtains  and  kissed  her  fingers  to  him.  And,  as  the 
wagon  with  its  escort  rolled  off  with  slow  wheels  creaking, 
Mr.  Duncan  struck  up : 

"  Who  hunts,  doth  oft  in  danger  ride ; 
Who  hawks,  lures  oft  both  far  and  wide; 
Who  uses  games,  may  often  prove 
A  loser;  but  who  falls  in  love, 
Is  fettered  in  fond  Cupid's  snare; 
My  angle  breeds  me  no  such  care." 

And  Sir  William  and  Mr.  Duncan  ended  the  song: 

"  The  first  men  that  our  Saviour  dear 
Did  choose  to  wait  upon  him  here, 
Blest  Fishers  were, — " 

The  shrill  voices  of  Esk  and  Peter  joined  in,  then  were 
hushed  as  Silver  Heels's  dainty  song  grew  from  the  silence 
like  a  fresh  breeze : 

"  For  Courts  are  full  of  flattery 

As  hath  too  oft  been  tried; 
The  City  full  of  wantonness, 
And  both  be  full  of  Pride: 

Then  care  away, 
And  wend  along  with  me!" 

So  singing  on  their  rye-straw  couches,  the  swaying  wagon 
bore  them  over  the  hilly  road,  now  up,  now  rattling  down-hill 
among  the  stones  to  ford  some  ice-clear  brook,  and  away 
again  across  the  rolling  country,  followed  by  Gillie  Bare- 
shanks,  stone  bottles  flopping,  and  the  trotting  soldiers  hold 
ing  their  three-cornered  hats  on  with  one  hand,  bridle-rein 
in  t'other. 

I  galloped  ahead,  pistol  poised,  frowning  at  woodlands 
where  I  pretended  to  myself  danger  might  hide,  examining 

59 


CARDIGAN 

all  wayfarers  with  impartial  severity;  and  I  doubt  not  that, 
seeing  me  in  full  uniform  and  armed,  my  countenance  filled 
them  with  misgivings ;  indeed,  some  called  out  to  know  if  the 
news  from  Boston  was  bad,  if  the  Indians  meant  mischief 
hereabouts,  or  if  the  highwayman,  Jack  Mount,  was  abroad. 

"  Plague  on  your  pistols !"  shouted  Sir  William,  as  I  waited 
at  a  ford  for  the  wagon.  "  Gad !  Michael,  your  desperate  de 
portment  is  scaring  my  tenants  along  the  way!  Smile  as 
you  gallop,  in  Heaven's  name!  else  they'll  take  you  for  Jack 
Mount  himself!" 

Somewhat  mortified  by  Sir  William's  roar  of  laughter,  I 
trotted  on  in  silence,  returning  my  pistol  to  its  holster,  and 
buckling  the  flap. 

We  now  entered  the  slashings  of  the  forest  which  is  called 
Fonda's  Bush,  "  bush "  meaning  land  not  yet  cleared  of 
woods.  The  sweet,  moist  shadow  of  the  forest  cooled  me;  I 
made  Warlock  stop,  for  I  love  to  listen  and  linger  in  a  wood 
land's  quiet. 

Here  the  field-birds  which  had  sung  everywhere  by  the 
roadside  were  silent,  as  they  always  are  on  the  borders  of 
deep  forests.  Slow  hawks  sailed  along  the  edge  of  the  woods ; 
out  in  the  clearing  a  few  finches  twittered  timidly  in  the 
sunshine,  but  here  among  the  hushed  ranks  of  giant  trees 
nothing  stirred  save  green  leaves. 

But  the  solitude  of  forest  depths  is  no  solitude  to  those 
who  know  when  and  where  to  watch  and  listen.  Faint  sounds 
came  to  savant  ears:  the  velvet  rustle  of  a  snake  brushing 
its  belly  over  soft  mosses ;  the  padded  patter  of  the  fox-hare ; 
the  husky  quhit!  quhit!  of  that  ashy  partridge  whose  eye  is 
surmounted  by  a  scarlet  patch,  and  wrhose  flesh  is  bitter  as 
hemlock.  Solitude!  Nay,  for  the  quick  furry  creatures 
that  haunt  water-ways  live  here,  slipping  among  bowlders, 
creeping  through  crevices;  here  a  mink  with  eyes  like  jet 
beads;  here  a  whiskered  otter  peering  from  a  cleft;  now  a 
musk-rat  squatting  to  wash  his  face;  now  a  red  martin 
thrashing  about  in  the  thick  tree-top  like  a  mammoth  squirrel 
at  frolic. 

If  this  be  solitude,  with  the  stream  softly  talking  in  that 
silly  babble  which  is  a  language,  too;  if  this  be  solitude, 
with  the  shy  deer  staring  and  the  tiny  wood-mouse  in  the 

60 


CAKDIGAN 

windfall  scraping  busily;  if  this  be  solitude,  then  imprison 
me  here,  and  not  in  the  cities,  where  solitude  is  in  men's 
hearts ! 

Five  miles  still  lay  before  us  over  the  moist,  springy  forest 
road,  an  excellent  and  carefully  constructed  thoroughfare 
which  had  been  begun  by  Sir  William  and  designed  for  a 
short  and  direct  route  to  those  healing  springs  of  Saratoga 
which  he  loved,  twenty-eight  miles  northeast  of  us.  But  this 
route  had  never  been  continued  east  of  Fonda's  Bush,  partly 
because  the  winding  Kennyetto  interfered  too  often,  demand 
ing  to  be  bridged  a  dozen  times  in  a  mile,  partly  because  an 
easier  though  longer  route  had  been  surveyed  by  the  engineer 
officers  from  Albany,  and  was  already  roughly  marked  as  far 
as  the  Diamond  Hill,  from  which,  in  clear  weather,  the  Sara 
toga  lake  may  be  seen. 

The  road  we  travelled,  therefore,  came  to  an  abrupt  end 
on  the  banks  of  the  Kennyetto;  and  here,  in  a  sunny  clear 
ing  which  was  a  sugar-bush  lately  in  use,  the  wagon  and  its 
passengers  halted,  and  I  dismounted,  flinging  my  bridle  to 
one  of  the  soldiers. 

"  Souse  the  stone  jugs  in  the  stream !"  called  out  Sir  Will 
iam  to  young  Bareshanks,  who  came  bumping  up  with  his 
bottles  a-knocking  and  his  hat  crammed  on  his  ears. 

Peter  and  Esk  wriggled  out  of  the  straw,  fighting  over  a 
red  and  blue  bob-float,  and  fell  with  a  thump  upon  the  moss, 
locked  in  conflict.  Whereupon  Sir  William  fetched  them  a 
clip  with  his  ivory  cane  across  their  buttocks,  which  brought 
them  up  snivelling,  but  reconciled. 

Meanwhile  Mr.  Duncan  had  gone  to  the  bank  of  the  stream 
with  six  sharp  pegs,  all  numbered ;  and  presently  Sir  William 
joined  him,  where  they  consulted  seriously  concerning  the 
proper  ground,  and  took  snuff  and  hummed  and  hawed  with 
much  wagging  of  heads  and  many  eye-squints  at  the  sky  and 
water. 

At  last,  the  question  being  settled,  Mr.  Duncan  set  the  six 
pegs  ten  yards  apart  and  pushed  them  noiselessly  down  into 
the  bank,  while  Sir  William  removed  his  hat  and  placed  in 
the  crown  six  bits  of  birch-bark  with  numbers  written  on 
each. 

"Now,  then,  young  wild-cats,"  he  said,  frowning  at  Esk 

61 


CARDIGAN 

and  Peter,  "  and  you,  Felicity,  you,  too,  Mr.  Duncan,  and 
Michael,  also,  come  and  draw  lots  for  pegs.  Zounds !  Peter ! 
Ladies  first,  sir !  Now,  Felicity !" 

Silver  Heels  placed  one  hand  over  her  eyes  and  groped  in 
the  hat  until  her  fingers  clutched  a  square  of  bark.  Then  she 
drew  it  out. 

"  Number  six !"  she  said,  shyly. 

"Last  peg  to  the  left,"  announced  Sir  William.  "Who 
next  ?  Draw,  Mr.  Duncan !" 

"  Me !  Me !"  shouted  Peter  and  Esk,  charging  at  the  hat 
and  tearing  their  numbers  from  it. 

Then  Mr.  Duncan  drew,  and  then  I  drew  number  five. 

"  Get  ready !"  commanded  Sir  William,  fumbling  with  his 
fish-rod.  "  Michael,  take  care  of  Felicity !" 

Now  the  rules  for  a  peg-down  fishing  match  are  few  and 
simple.  Each  contestant  must  fish  from  the  position  which 
his  peg  indicates,  and  he  must  not  leave  his  peg  to  fish  else 
where  until  the  match  is  ended.  Furthermore,  he  must  fish 
courteously  and  with  due  regard  for  his  neighbour's  rights, 
employing  no  unfair  means  to  attract  fish  to  his  own  bait  or 
to  drive  them  from  his  neighbour's.  The  contestant  securing 
the  largest  number  of  fish  is  the  winner;  he  who  bags  the 
largest  single  fish  is  adjudged  worthy  of  a  second  prize;  he 
who  secures  the  choicest  individual  fish  receives  a  crown  of 
young  oak  leaves. 

At  the  words,  "  Take  your  stations !"  we  trooped  to  our 
pegs.  Silver  Heels  was  on  the  extreme  left,  I  next,  then  Sir 
William,  then  Mr.  Duncan,  then  Peter,  and,  last  of  all,  Esk. 

"  Fish !"  cried  Sir  William,  and  swung  his  rod  from  the 
wrist,  sending  a  green  and  gray  and  scarlet  feather-fly  out 
into  the  water. 

Silver  Heels  held  her  hook  out  to  me  and  I  garnished  it 
with  a  bit  of  eel's  skin  and  red  flannel.  My  own  line  I  baited 
with  angle-worm,  and  together  we  cast  out  into  the  slow,  deep 
current. 

Farther  along  I  heard  Esk  and  Peter  cast  out  with  some 
heedless  splashing,  which  was  the  occasion  of  mutual  re 
crimination  until  Sir  William  silenced  them. 

Yet  almost  immediately  fat  Peter  caught  a  fish,  which  is 
like  all  Indians.  However,  it  was  but  a  spiny  sun-fish  with 

62 


CAKDIGAN 

blue  and  scarlet  and  yellow  gills.  Still  it  made  Peter's 
score  one. 

"Does  that  count?"  asked  Silver  Heels,  turning  up  her 
nose.  "See!  Peter  hath  another  one — a  sun-fish,  too !  Pooh! 
Anybody  can  catch  sun-fish." 

"  Better  catch  'em  then,"  said  Sir  William,  laughing,  and 
drawing  his  fly  over  the  water  to  recover  it  for  another  cast. 

Splash! — and  Peter  had  a  third  sun-fish;  and  in  another 
moment  Esk  jerked  a  fourth  from  the  water,  secured  his 
prize  with  a  scowl  at  Peter,  and  hurriedly  rebaited,  muttering 
and  breathing  thickly. 

Then  Mr.  Duncan's  yellow  float  bobbed  under,  once,  twice, 
then  bobbed  so  fast  that  the  water  dimpled  all  around  and 
the  little  rings,  spreading,  succeeded  each  other  so  quickly 
that  the  wavelets  covered  the  yellow  float. 

"  A  barbel-pout,"  quoth  Mr.  Duncan,  coolly,  and  sure 
enough  up  came  the  bluish-black  fish  and  flapped  and 
squeaked,  now  on  its  white  belly,  now  on  its  back,  grinning 
with  its  gummy,  whiskered  maw  agape  and  its  three  dagger 
fins  ready  to  stab  and  poison  him  who  rashly  grasped  it. 

"  Silver  Heels,"  said  I,  politely ;  "  you  are  having  a  nibble." 

"  Oh,  so  I  am!"  she  cried,  and  drew  a  lovely  blue  and  silver 
frost-fish  to  the  surface,  only  to  lose  it  by  over-haste,  and 
cry  out  in  her  vexation. 

I  explained  to  her  how  to  strike  the  hook  before  pulling  in, 
and  she  thanked  me  very  modestly.  There  was  a  new  and 
humble  tone  in  her  voice,  delicate  and  grateful  flattery  to  me, 
due,  as  I  knew  perfectly  well,  to  my  uniform.  Nor  did  the 
tribute  savour  of  any  after-sting  of  jealousy  or  resentment 
for  my  new  honours. 

She  recognized  that  I  had  climbed  high  in  a  single  day, 
leaving  the  rounds  of  childhood  behind  forever;  and  she 
knew,  too,  which  I  did  not,  that  she  also  was  climbing  the 
ladder  very  swiftly,  a  little  behind  me  now,  yet  confident, 
and  meaning  to  rejoin  and  pass  me  ere  I  dreamed  of  such  a 
thing. 

About  this  time  Sir  William  hooked  and  landed  a  great 
pink  and  white  Mohawk  chub,  which  had  risen  silently  from  a 
black  pool  and  had  sucked  in  his  feather-fly. 

"Tush!"  said  Sir  William.  "  I'll  not  count  that  I"  And 

63 


CARDIGAN 

with  a  slack  and  a  snip !  he  unhooked  the  fish,  which  at  once 
slowly  sank  back  into  the  black  channel.  Whereupon  Sir 
William  smoothed  out  his  fly,  and  took  snuff,  singing  mer 
rily: 

"  A-Maying ! 

A-Maying ! " 

"  You  bade  us  make  no  noise,  sir,"  spoke  up  Esk,  reproach 
fully. 

"  So  I  did,  lad !  So  I  did !  But  not  with  thy  mouth. 
Shout  all  day,  and  never  a  trout  budges.  Stamp  thy  feet — 
ay,  brush  but  a  stone  in  passing,  and  it's  farewell,  master 
troutling !  Ho !  WThat  was  that  ?" 

A  spattering  and  splashing  arose  from  Peter's  peg,  and  all 
turned  to  see  the  fat  little  Mohawk  dragging  a  trout  from 
the  water  and  up  the  bank,  where  he  fell  upon  the  bouncing 
fish,  whooping  like  the  savage  he  was. 

"  Clearly,"  mused  Sir  William,  "  my  eye  has  lost  its  cun 
ning,  and  my  arm  its  strength.  So  passes  the  generation  that 
was  born  with  me !  Heigh-ho !  Well  done,  Peter  boy !" 

Silver  Heels  was  doomed  to  ill-fortune.  She  lost  a  second 
frost-fish,  and  was  ready  to  weep.  So  I  laid  my  rod  on  the 
bank,  leaving  the  baited  hook  in  the  water,  and  went  over  to 
her,  for  she  seemed  discouraged,  having  broken  her  hook  and 
quill. 

"Fen  dubs!"  shouted  Peter,  from  the  other  end  of  the 
line.  "You  can't  do  that,  Michael!  I'm  ahead  of  you  all, 
and  it  is  not  fair !" 

"  Mind  your  business,"  said  I,  sitting  down  beside  Silver 
Heels;  and  truly  enough  he  did,  for,  before  I  was  seated, 
Peter  jumped  up,  struggling  with  a  fat  white  perch,  which  he 
landed,  yelling  and  dancing  in  his  vanity. 

"Never  you  mind,  Silver  Heels,"  said  I,  tying  a  plated 
hook  on  her  line,  and  covering  it  with  a  long  silvery  strip  of 
skin  and  pin-feathers  from  a  pullet's  neck.  "  Now  do  as  I 
say;  toss  the  bait  down  stream,  so!  Now  draw  it  slowly  till 
it  spins  like  a  top." 

Ere  I  could  end  my  instructions  I  saw  the  nose  of  a  great 
gold-green  pike  close  after  her  bait. 

"  Slack !"  I  whispered.    "  He  has  it !" 

She  held  the  rod  still.  There  came  a  twitch,  more  twitches, 

64 


CAEDIGAN 

but  so  gentle  you  would  have  vowed  'twas  a  tender-mouthed 
minnow  lipping  the  line. 

"  He  gorged  it,"  I  muttered ;  "  strike  hard  I" 

"A  log!"  wailed  Silver  Heels,  as  she  felt  the  rod  stagger 
when  the  hook,  deeply  struck,  embedded  barb  and  shank. 

But  it  was  no  log,  for  instantly  the  great  fish  shot  into  the 
air,  and  lay  a-wallowing  and  thrashing  in  mid-stream. 

"  A  chain-pike !"  cried  Sir  William,  briskly.  "  Do  you  net 
him,  Michael,  else  Felicity  will  take  a  swim  she  has  not  bar 
gained  for !" 

I  ran  to  Sir  William,  who  thrust  the  net  at  me,  and  back 
again  as  fast  as  my  legs  could  move  to  Silver  Heels,  who  had 
dropped  the  rod  and  now,  sprawling  on  the  moss,  lay  a-pulling 
at  the  line  which  was  cutting  her  tender  fingers. 

"No  fair!"  bellowed  fat  Peter,  jealously.  "Let  her  bag 
her  own  game  as  I  do !  Hi-yi !  Another  trout !" 

But  spite  of  Peter's  clamour  and  Esk's  injured  howls,  I 
netted  the  floundering  pike  and  flung  it  among  the  bushes, 
where  young  Bareshanks  gaffed  it  and  held  it  aloft. 

There  it  hung,  all  spray  and  green  and  gold,  marked  with 
the  devil's  chain  pattern;  and  its  wolf -jaws  gaping,  lined 
with  teeth. 

"  Oh,  Michael,"  quavered  Silver  Heels,  staring  at  her  cap 
tive.  She  moved  a  little  nearer  to  the  fish,  plucking  up  her 
skirts  with  her  fingers,  and  bending  forward,  alarmed,  amazed 
at  the  fierce,  dripping  creature. 

"  Ugh !  There's  blood  on  it !"  she  whispered,  taking  fast 
hold  of  my  arm. 

"  Is  it  not  a  noble  prize !"  I  urged,  eagerly.  But  she 
shook  her  head  and  turned  away,  holding  me  tightly  by  the 
sleeve. 

"Are  you  not  proud?"  I  persisted,  irritably.  "It  is  the 
biggest  fish  any  have  yet  caught.  You  will  gain  second 
prize,  silly!  What's  the  matter  with  you,  anyhow!"  I  added, 
in  a  temper. 

"  I  can't  help  it,"  she  said,  tremulously ;  "  I'm  not  a  man, 
and  it  frightens  me  to  kill.  I  shall  fish  no  more.  Ugh — the 
blood! — and  how  it  quivered  when  the  gillie  gaffed  it!  I 
could  cry  my  eyes  out  for  the  life  I  took  so  lightly !" 

I  was  disgusted  and  hurt,  too,  for  I  had  thought  to  please 
E  65 


CAEDIGAN 

her.    I  drew  my  sleeve  from  her  fingers,  but  she  only  stood 
there  like  a  simpleton  harping  on  one  string : 

"  Oh,  the  brave  fish !  Oh,  the  poor  brave  fish !  I  hurt  it ! — 
I  saw  blood  on  it,  Michael." 

"Ninny,"  said  I;  "there  is  blood  on  your  fingers,  too, 
where  the  line  cut,  and  you've  wiped  it  on  my  sleeve !" 

She  looked  at  her  bleeding  fingers  in  a  silly,  startled  fash 
ion,  then  held  them  out  to  me  so  pitifully  that  I  could  do  no 
less  than  wipe  them  clean  and  bind  them  in  my  handker 
chief,  though  it  was  my  best,  and  flowered  and  laced  at  that. 

"  I  don't  care,"  she  said,  a-pouting  at  the  water ;  "  you 
told  me  that  when  you  shot  wild  things  it  saddened  you,  too." 

I  pretended  not  to  hear,  yet  it  was  true.  And  in  sooth,  to 
this  day  I  never  draw  trigger  on  beast  or  bird  that  I  do  not 
thrill  with  pity. 

I  know  not  what  fierce,  resistless  passion  it  may  be  that 
sets  my  nostrils  quivering  like  a  pointer's  when  I  chase  wild 
things — what  savage  craving  drives  me  on,  on,  on!  till  the 
flash  of  the  gun  and  the  innocent  death  leave  me  standing 
sad  and  staring. 

Could  I  but  keep  from  the  woods — but  I  cannot.  And  it 
were  vainer  to  argue  with  a  hound  on  a  runway,  or  with  the 
west  wind  in  October,  than  with  me. 

I  went  to  my  rod,  which  I  saw  nodding  its  tip  in  the  water, 
and  found  an  eel  fast  to  the  bait,  yet  not  hooked,  so  sum 
moned  Eareshanks  to  rid  me  of  the  snaky  thing  and  strolled 
sulkily  over  to  Sir  William. 

The  Baronet  had  enticed  and  prettily  netted  a  plump  lake 
salmon,  by  far  the  choicest  fish  taken;  so,  the  match  being 
ended,  and  luncheon  served  under  the  pines,  Silver  Heels 
plaited  a  wreath  of  red-oak,  and  crowned  Sir  William  for 
his  third  prize. 

Peter  with  his  motley  string  of  fish,  some  two  dozen  brace 
in  all,  and  mostly  trout  at  that,  clamoured  for  the  first  prize, 
which  was  a  Barlow-knife  like  the  one  Silver  Heels  had 
gained  in  the  foot-race  a  year  ago;  and  he  clutched  his  prize 
and  straightway  fell  a-hacking  the  wagon  till  Sir  William 
collared  him. 

Silver  Heels  received  the  other  reward,  a  gold  guinea ;  and 
she  placed  it  in  her  bosom,  and  kissed  Sir  William  heartily. 

66 


CAKDIGAN 

"  Faith,"  said  the  Baronet,  "  you  had  best  kiss  your  cousin 
yonder,  who  saved  you  from  a  bath  in  the  brook  with  your 
pike!" 

Silver  Heels  came  up  to  me,  laying  both  hands  on  my 
shoulders,  and  held  up  her  lips.  I  kissed  her  maliciously  and 
praised  her  skill,  vowing  that  she  was  a  very  Huron  for 
slaughter,  which  boorish  jest  set  her  face  a  sorrowful  red. 

Meanwhile  young  Bareshanks  had  laid  a  clean  cloth  upon 
the  moss,  and  there  was  pot-pie  and  roast  capon,  and  a  dish 
of  apples  and  gingerbread.  Ale,  too,  and  punch  chilled  in  the 
brook,  and  small-beer  for  the  children,  with  a  few  drops  of 
wine  to  drink  Sir  William's  health. 

With  a  cup  of  ale  in  one  hand  and  a  slice  of  cold  capon 
on  a  trencher  of  bread,  I  munched  and  drank  and  rallied 
Silver  Heels  because  of  her  pity  for  the  pike ;  but  she  did  not 
like  it,  yet  ventured  no  retort,  such  as  was  formerly  her  cus 
tom. 

Presently,  Sir  William  having  done  scant  justice  to  pot- 
pie  and  ale,  called  for  his  rod  and  flies,  and  he  and  Mr.  Dun 
can  lighted  their  pipes  and  strolled  off  along  the  stream  to 
lure  those  small  plump  salmon  which  abound  in  the  Kenny- 
etto's  swiftest  reaches. 

Peter  lay  on  the  moss,  a-stuffing  himself  Indian  fashion 
until  it  hurt  him  to  eat  more,  and  he  howled  and  licked  his 
gingercake,  lamenting  because  he  could  not  contain  it.  So 
I  grasped  his  heels  and  dragged  him  to  the  wagon,  tossing 
him  up  in  the  straw  to  lie  like  a  sucking  pig  and  squeal  his 
fill. 

Bareshanks  and  the  soldiers  now  fell  upon  the  feast,  and 
Silver  Pleels  and  I  withdrew  to  play  at  stick-knife  and 
watch  Esk  that  he  tumbled  not  into  the  water  while  turning 
flat  rocks  for  cray-flsh. 

Seated  there  on  the  deep  moss  at  stick-knife  with  the  cold 
song  of  the  stream  in  our  ears,  we  conducted  politely  as 
became  our  quality,  I  asking  pardon  for  plaguing  her  con 
cerning  the  pike,  she  granting  pardon  and  praising  my  skill 
in  taking  such  a  monster  fish.  That  glow  of  amiability 
which  suffuses  man  when  he  has  fed,  warmed  me  into  a 
most  friendly  state  of  mind,  and  I  permitted  Silver  Heels 
to  win  at  stick-knife,  and  I  drew  the  peg  without  protest. 

67 


CARDIGAN 

Fat  Peter  had  fallen  asleep;  Esk,  nipped  by  a  cray-fish, 
waddled  to  the  wagon,  and  rolling  himself  into  a  ball  like  a 
raccoon,  joined  Peter  in  dreams  of  surfeit. 

In  a  distant  glade  the  soldiers  and  young  Bareshanks 
played  at  cards;  the  horses,  tethered  near,  snorted  in  their 
feed-bags,  and  whisked  their  tails  at  the  gnats  and  forest 
flies. 

A  hush  fell  upon  the  woods,  stiller  for  the  gossip  of  the 
stream.  Ringed  pigeons  in  the  trees  overhead  made  low, 
melodious  love;  far  in  the  forest  dusk  the  hermit-bird  sang, 
but  so  faint,  so  distant,  that  the  whisper  of  leaves  stirring 
effaced  the  hymn  of  the  gray  recluse. 

"  I  had  not  thought  that  you  were  so  nearly  a  man  to  be 
appointed  cornet  of  horse,"  said  Silver  Heels,  digging  into 
the  moss  with  her  knife. 

"  And  you,"  said  I,  magnanimously,  "  are  almost  a  wom 
an."  But  I  said  it  from  courtesy,  not  because  I  believed  it. 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  indifferently,  "  maids  may  wed  at  six 
teen  years." 

"  Wed !"  I  repeated,  laughing  outright. 

"  Ay.     Mother  was  a  bride  at  sixteen." 

I  was  silent  in  my  effort  to  digest  such  an  absurd  idea. 
Silver  Heels  marry  in  another  year!  I  looked  at  the  frail 
yet  full  arm,  half  bared,  the  slender  neck,  the  round,  clear 
hazel  eyes,  the  faintly  smiling  mouth,  which  was  the  mouth 
of  a  child.  Silver  Heels  wed?  The  idea  was  grotesque.  It 
was  also  displeasing. 

Not  to  rebuff  her  with  scorn,  I  said :  "  Indeed,  you  are  quite 
a  woman.  Perhaps  in  a  year  you  will  be  one !  Who  knows  ? — 
for  a  year  is  such  a  long,  long  time,  Silver  Heels." 

"  It  is  a  very  long  time,"  she  admitted. 

"  And  to  love,  one  must  be  quite  old,"  said  I. 

"  Yes,  that  is  true,"  she  conceded,  reluctantly ;  "  but  not 
always." 

After  a  silence  she  said,  "  Michael,  I  have  a  secret." 

The  mere  idea  that  Silver  Heels  possessed  a  secret  which 
she  had  not  at  once  revealed  to  me  produced  a  complicated 
sensation  in  my  breast.  I  was  conscious  of  a  sudden  and 
wholly  involuntary  respect  for  Silver  Heels,  a  hearty  re 
sentment,  and  a  gnawing  curiosity  to  learn  the  secret. 

68 


CARDIGAN 

"  Will  you  promise  never,  never  to  tell  ?"  she  asked,  raising 
her  eager  eyes  to  me. 

Again  resentment  and  hurt  pride  stung  me,  but  curiosity 
prevailed,  and  I  promised,  with  pretended  indifference,  to 
soothe  my  weak  loss  of  self-respect. 

"Well,  then,"  she  said,  lowering  her  voice,  "I  am  sure 
that  Mr.  Butler  is  in  love  with  me." 

"  Mr.  Butler !"  I  cried  out,  in  angry  derision.  "  Why,  he's 
an  old  man !  Why,  he's  nearly  thirty !" 

Angry  incredulity  choked  me,  and  I  sat  scowling  at  Silver 
Heels  and  striving  to  reconcile  her  serious  mien  with  such  a 
tomfool  speech. 

"If  you  shout  my  secret  aloud,"  she  said,  "I  shall  tell 
you  no  more,  Micky." 

Again,  troubled  and  astonished  at  her  sincerity,  I  ex 
pressed  my  disbelief  in  a  growl. 

"He  keeps  me  after  school  hours,"  she  said;  "once  he 
would  caress  my  hand,  but  I  will  have  none  of  it.  He  some 
times  speaks  of  the  future,  and  certainly  does  conduct  in 
most  romantic  manners,  vowing  he  will  wait  for  me,  declar 
ing  that  I  must  love  him  one  day,  that  I  am  no  longer  a 
child,  that  he  has  adored  me  since  I  was  but  twelve." 

"  How  long  has  this  gone  on  ?"  I  said,  my  face  cold  and 
twitching  with  rage. 

"  These  three  months,"  said  Silver  Heels,  without  embar 
rassment. 

"  And — and  you  never  told  me !" 

She  shook  her  head  frankly. 

"  No,  you  were  but  a  lad,  and  you  could  not  understand 
such  things." 

For  a  moment  I  felt  so  small  that  I  could  have  yelled  aloud 
my  vexation.  What!  I  too  young  to  be  told  the  secrets  of 
this  chit  of  a  child  with  her  ridiculous  airs  and  pretensions ! 

"  But  now  that  you  are  become  a  man,"  she  continued, 
serenely,  "  I  thought  to  tell  you  of  this,  because  it  tries  my 
patience,  yet  pleases  me,  too,  sometimes." 

Boiling  with  fury  and  humiliation,  I  gave  her  a  piece  of 
my  mind.  I  said  that  Mr.  Butler  was  a  sneak,  a  bully,  and 
an  old  fool  in  his  dotage  to  make  love  to  a  baby.  I  told  her 
it  did  sicken  me  to  hear  of  it;  that  there  was  no  truth  in  it 

69 


CARDIGAN 

but  vain  imaginings,  and  that  she  had  best  confess  to  Sir 
William  how  this  gentleman  school-teacher  did  teach  her  his 
knowledge  withal ! 

She  listened,  frowning  and  digging  up  moss  with  her  knife. 

"  He  is  not  old,"  she  said,  firmly ;  "  thirty  years  is  but  a 
youth's  prime,  which  you  will  one  day  comprehend." 

Such  condescension  wellnigh  finished  me.  I  could  find 
neither  tongue  nor  words  to  speak  my  passion. 

"  He  is  a  gentleman  of  rank  and  station,"  she  said,  primly. 
"  If  he  chooses  to  protest  his  solicitous  regard  for  me,  I  can 
but  courteously  discourage  him." 

"  You  little  prig !"  I  exclaimed,  grinding  my  teeth.  "  I 
will  teach  this  fellow  Butler  to  abuse  Sir  William's  confi 
dence!" 

"  I  have  your  promise  not  to  reveal  this,"  said  Silver  Heels, 
coolly. 

I  groaned,  then  remembering  that  Mr.  Butler  had  partly 
promised  me  a  meeting,  I  caught  Silver  Heels  by  both  hands 
and  looked  at  her  earnestly. 

"  I  also  have  a  secret,"  said  I.  "  Promise  me  silence,  and 
you  shall  share  it." 

"  Truly?"  she  asked,  a  little  pale. 

"  Truly,  a  secret.    Promise.  Silver  Heels." 

"  I  promise,'-'  she  whispered. 

Then  I  told  her  of  my  defiance,  of  the  meeting  which  Mr. 
Butler  had  half  pledged  me,  and  I  swore  to  her  that  I  would 
kill  him,  eye  to  eye  and  hilt  to  hilt;  not  alone  for  his  con 
tempt  and  insults  to  me,  but  for  Sir  William's  honour  and 
for  the  honour  of  my  kinswoman.  Felicity  Warren. 

"  The  beast !"  I  snarled.  "  That  he  should  come  a-suing 
you  without  a  word  to  Sir  William  1  Do  gentlemen  conduct 
in  such  a  manner  towards  gentlewomen  ?  Now  hear  me !  Do 
you  swear  to  me  upon  your  oath  and  honour  never  to  stay 
again  after  school,  never  to  listen  to  another  word  from  this 
sneaking  fellow  until  you  are  sixteen,  never  to  receive  his 
addresses  until  Sir  William  speaks  to  you  of  him?  Swear 
it!  Or  I  will  go  straight  to  Mr.  Butler  and  strike  him  in 
the  face!" 

"Micky,  what  are  you  saying?  Sir  William  knows  all 
this." 

70 


CAKDIGAN 

Taken  aback,  I  dropped  her  hands,  but  in  a  moment  seized 
them  again. 

"Swear!"  I  repeated,  crushing  her  hands.  "I  don't  care 
what  Sir  William  says !  Swear  it !" 

"I  swear,"  she  said,  faintly.  "You  are  hurting  my 
fingers!" 

She  drew  her  hands  from  mine.  Where  the  fishing-line 
had  cut  a  single  drop  of  blood  had  been  squeezed  out  again. 

"  First  you  bind  my  hand,  then  you  tear  it,"  she  said, 
without  resentment.  "  It  is  like  all  men — to  hurt,  to  heal, 
then  wound  again." 

I  scarcely  heard  her,  being  occupied  with  my  anger  and 
my  designs  against  Mr.  Butler.  Such  hatred  as  I  now  felt 
for  him  I  never  had  conceived  could  be  cherished  towards  any 
living  thing.  My  right  hand  itched  for  a  sword-hilt;  I 
longed  to  see  him  facing  me  as  I  never  had  craved  for  any 
thing  in  this  world  or  the  next.  And  to  think  that  Sir  Will 
iam  approved  it ! 

Unconsciously  we  had  both  risen,  and  now,  side  by  side, 
we  were  moving  slowly  along  the  stream,  saying  nothing,  yet 
in  closer  communion  than  we  had  ever  been. 

Little  by  little  the  hot  anger  cooled  in  my  veins,  leaving 
a  refreshing  confidence  that  all  would  come  right.  Such  pas 
sions  are  too  powerful  for  young  hearts.  Anger  and  grief 
heal  their  own  wounds  quickly  when  life  is  yet  new. 

With  my  sudden,  astonished  respect  for  Silver  Heels  came 
another  sentiment,  a  recognition  of  her  rights  as  an  equal, 
and  a  strangely  solicitous  desire  to  control  and  direct  her 
enjoyment  of  these  rights.  It  is  the  instinct  of  chivalry, 
latent  in  the  roughest  of  us,  and  which,  -in  extreme  youth, 
first  manifests  as  patronage.  Thus,  walking  with  Silver 
Heels  I  unburdened  my  heart,  telling  her  that  I  too  had  been 
in  love,  that  the  object  of  my  respectful  passion  was  one 
Marie  Livingston,  who  would  undoubtedly  be  mine  at  some 
distant  date.  I  revealed  my  desire  to  see  Silver  Heels  suit 
ably  plighted,  drawing  a  pleasing  portrait  of  an  imaginary 
suitor  who  should  fill  all  requirements. 

To  this  she  replied  that  she,  too,  had  desired  a  suitor  re 
sembling  the  highly  attractive  portrait  I  had  painted  for 
her;  that  she  found  a  likeness  between  that  portrait  and  her 

71 


CARDIGAN 

secret  ideal,  and  that  she  should  be  very  glad  to  encounter 
the  portrait  in  the  flesh. 

It  hurt  me  a  little  that  she  had  not  recognized  in  me  many 
of  the  traits  I  had  painted  for  her  so  carefully,  and  presently 
I  disclosed  myself  as  the  mysterious  original  of  the  portrait. 

"  You !"  she  exclaimed,  in  amazement.  Then,  not  to  hurt 
me,  she  said  it  was  quite  true  that  I  did  resemble  her  ideal, 
and  only  lacked  years  and  titles  and  wealth  and  reputation 
to  make  me  desirable  for  her. 

"  I  believe,  also,"  she  said,  "  that  Aunt  Molly  means  that 
we  marry.  Betty  says  so,  and  she  is  wiser  than  a  black  cat." 

"  Well,"  said  I,  "  we  can't  marry,  can  we,  Silver  Heels  ?" 

"  Why,  no,"  she  said,  simply ;  "  there's  all  those  things  you 
lack." 

"  And  all  those  things  which  you  lack,"  said  I,  sharply. 
"  Now,  Marie  Livingston — " 

"  She  is  older  than  I !"  cried  Silver  Heels. 

"  And  those  things  I  lack  come  with  years !"  I  retorted. 

"That  is  true,"  she  answered;  "you  are  suitable  for  me 
excepting  your  years,  which  includes  all  you  ought  to  be." 

"  Suppose  you  wait  for  me  ?"  I  proposed.  "  If  I  wed  not 
Marie  Livingston,  I  will  wed  you,  Silver  Heels." 

I  meant  to  be  generous,  but  she  grew  very  angry  and 
vowed  she  would  rather  wed  young  Bareshanks  than  me. 

"I  don't  care  a  fig,"  said  I;  "I  only  meant  you  to  be 
suitably  wed  one  day,  and  was  even  willing  to  do  so  myself 
to  save  you  from  Captain  Butler.  Anyway  I'll  kill  him  next 
year,  so  I  don't  care  whether  you  marry  me  or  not." 

"A  sorry  match,  pardieu!"  she  snapped,  and  fell  a-laugh- 
ing.  "  Michael,  I  will  warn  you  now  that  I  mean  to  wed  a 
gentleman  of  rank  and  wealth,  and  wear  jewels  which  will 
blind  you!  And  I  shall  wed  a  gallant  gentleman  of  years, 
Michael,  and  scarred  with  battles — not  so  to  disfigure  a  pleas 
ing  countenance,  but  under  his  clothes  where  none  can  see — 
and  I  shall  be  '  my  lady!' — mark  me!  Michael,  and  shall  be 
well  patched  and  powdered  as  befits  my  rank!  I  shall  strive 
to  be  very  kind  to  you,  Michael." 

Her  cheeks  were  aflame,  her  eyes  daring  and  bright.  She 
picked  up  her  skirt  and  mocked  me  in  a  curtsey,  then 
marched  off,  nose  in  the  wind,  to  join  Sir  William  and  Mr. 


CARDIGAN 

Duncan,  who  were  returning  along  the  bank  with  a  few 
brace  of  fish. 

The  sun  had  dropped  low  behind  the  trees  ere  we  were  pre 
pared  to  depart.  Bareshanks  brought  around  my  horse,  and 
I  mounted  without  difficulty  this  time. 

As  the  wagon  moved  off  Mr.  Duncan  started  a  hymn  of 
Watts,  which  all  joined,  the  soldiers  and  young  Bareshanks 
also  singing  lustily,  it  being  permitted  for  servants  to  aid 
in  holy  song. 

So  among  the  woods  and  out  into  the  still  country,  with 
the  sun  a  red  ball  sinking  through  saffron  mist  and  the  new 
moon  aslant  and  dim  overhead. 

As  I  rode,  the  whippoorwill  called  after  me  from  the  dark 
ening  woods;  the  crickets  began  from  every  tuft,  and  far 
away  I  heard  the  solitary  hermit  at  vespers  in  the  still  pines. 

It  was  night  ere  the  lights  of  Johnstown  glimmered  out 
against  the  hill-side  where,  on  the  hillock  called  Mount  John 
son,  the  candles  in  our  windows  spun  little  rings  of  fire  in 
the  evening  haze. 

As  we  passed  through  the  village,  the  good  people  turned 
to  smile  and  to  doff  their  hats  to  Sir  William,  thinking  noU 
less  of  him  for  riding  with  his  flock  in  the  straw-lined  wagon, 
and  on  they  went ;  I  pulling  rein  at  the  blacksmith's,  as  War 
lock  had  cast  a  shoe  on  the  stony  way  below. 

While  the  smith  was  at  his  forge  I  dismounted  and  stood 
in  the  fire-glow,  stroking  Warlock's  velvet  nose,  and  watching 
the  fiery  flakes  falling  from  the  beaten  metal. 

And  as  I  stood,  musing  now  on  Silver  Heels,  now  on  Mr. 
Butler,  came  one  a-swaggering  by  the  shop,  and  bawling 
loudly  a  most  foolish  lilt : 

"  Diddle   diddle   dumpling, 
My  son  John 

Went  to  bed  with  one  shoe  on; 
One  shoe  off  and  one  shoe  on; 
Diddle  diddle  dumpling, 
My  son  John!" 

Perceiving  me  in  full  uniform  the  songster  halted  and 
saluted  so  cheerfully  that  I  rendered  his  salute  with  a  smile. 
He  was  drunk  but  polite;  a  great  fellow,  six  feet  two  at 

73 


CARDIGAN 

least,  all  buckskin  and  swagger  and  raccoon  cap,  with  tail 
bobbing  to  his  neck,  a  true  coureur-de-bois,  which  is  the  term 
for  those  roaming  free-rifles  whose  business  and  conduct  will 
not  always  bear  investigation,  and  who  live  by  their  wits  as 
well  as  by  their  rifles. 

"A  fine  horse,  captain,"  quoth  he,  with  good-natured, 
drunken  freedom,  which  is  not  possible  for  gentlemen  to 
either  ignore  or  resent.  "  A  fine  horse,  sir,  and,  by  your 
leave,  worthy  of  his  master!"  And  he  stood  swaying  there 
heel  and  toe,  with  such  a  jolly  laugh  that  I  laughed  too,  and 
asked  the  news  from  Canada. 

"  Canada !"  he  roared,  in  his  voice  of  a  giant.  "  I've  not 
sniffed  priest  or  Jesuit  these  six  months!  Do  you  take  me 
for  a  Frenchy,  captain?" 

At  that  moment  another  man  who  had  been  pushing  his 
nose  against  the  window  of  a  bake-shop  crossed  the  street 
and  joined  the  giant  in  buckskin,  saluting  me  carelessly  as 
he  came  up. 

He  was  short  and  meagre  and  weasel-eyed,  sharp-muzzled, 
and  dingy  as  a  summer  fox.  He  was  also  drunk,  yet  his 
mouth  was  honest,  and  I  judge  not  from  such  things,  nor  yet 
by  the  eye,  but  by  men's  lips  and  how  they  rest  one  upon  the 
other,  and  how  they  laugh. 

Waiting  there  for  my  horse,  I  paced  up  and  down  the  door 
way,  sometimes  glancing  at  the  motley  pair  in  their  fringed 
buckskins,  who  were  fondly  embracing  one  another,  some 
times  watching  the  towns-people,  passing  before  the  lighted 
windows.  There  were  soldiers  strolling,  two  by  two,  lingering 
at  bake-shops  to  sniff  the  ovens;  there  were  traders,  come  to 
town  to  solicit  permits  from  Sir  William  for  the  Canadas. 
At  times  the  tall,  blanketed  form  of  a  Mohawk  passed  like  a 
spectre  with  the  red  forge  light  running  along  his  rifle 
barrel,  followed  by  his  squaw,  loaded  with  bags  of  flour,  or  a 
haunch  of  salted  boef,  or  a  bale  of  pelts  crackling  on  her 
back. 

My  pair  of  buckskin  birds,  loitering  before  the  tavern,  had 
been  observed  and  mistaken  for  French  trappers  by  half  a 
dozen  soldiers  of  the  Royal  Americans,  who  were  squatting 
in  a  row  on  the  tavern  porch,  and  a  volley  of  chaff  was  fired 
at  short  range. 

T4 


CAKD1GAN 

"  Mossoo !  Oh,  Mossoo !  I  say,  Mossoo !  How's  Mrs.  Par 
leyvoo  and  the  little  Parley voos?  What's  the  price  of  cat- 
stew  in  Canada  ?  Take  that  cat-tail  off  your  cap,  Mossoo !" 

The  big  ranger  gave  them  a  drunken  stare,  then  burst  into 
a  laugh. 

"  Why,  it's  some  of  those  lobster-backs.  Hello !  Old  red- 
bellies  !  They're  going  to  give  another  tea-party  in  Boston,  I 
hear.  Didn't  they  invite  you  ?" 

"  Come  across  the  street  and  we'll  give  you  a  tea-party, 
you  damned  Yankee!"  cried  the  soldiers,  unbuckling  their 
leather  belts  and  swinging  them. 

"  Come  over  here  and  we'll  drum  the  rogue's  march  on 
you!"  shouted  the  little  ranger,  planting  his  legs  wide  apart 
and  drawing  the  ramrod  from  his  long  rifle. 

A  watchman  with  rattle,  pike,  and  lanthorn  came  hobbling 
up,  threatening  to  sound  his  call.  A  group  of  towns-people 
gathered  behind  him,  protesting  against  the  disturbance. 

But  the  two  rangers  nourished  their  ramrods  and  taunted 
the  soldiers  with  inquiries  which  I.  did  not  understand  at 
the  time,  such  as :  "  How's  Bully  Tryon  and  his  blood-pud 
ding  ?"  "  I  learn  that  Tommy  Gage  has  the  gout ;  too  much 
Port-Bill;  he  needs  bleeding,  does  Tommy  Gage!" 

Then  the  big  ranger,  addressing  soldiers,  watchman,  and 
towns-people  as  "  bloody-backs,"  "  cow-rumps,"  and  "  scratch- 
wigs,"  advised  them  all  to  pickle  their  heads  and  sell  them  in 
Albany,  where  cabbage  was  much  esteemed  among  the  Dutch 
men. 

"  Come  up  to  the  barracks  and  we'll  show  you  what  pickling 
is,"  shouted  the  soldiers,  wrathfully. 

"  Come  out  in  the  woods  and  I'll  show  you  something  to 
beat  pickled  pig !"  replied  the  little  ranger,  cheerfully. 

Behind  me  I  heard  the  trample  of  hoofs;  the  smith  was 
backing  Warlock  out  into  the  street.  I  paid  him;  he  held 
my  stirrup,  and  I  mounted,  walking  my  horse  out  between 
the  soldiers,  the  people,  and  the  two  rangers. 

"  Come,  boys,"  said  I,  pleasantly,  "  this  town  is  no  place 
for  brawls.  Let  it  end  here — do  you  understand? — or  Sir 
William  shall  learn  of  it !" 

The  soldiers  had  stepped  forward  to  salute,  the  two  rangers 
laughed  scornfully,  flung  their  rifles  over  their  shoulders, 

75 


CAKDIGAN 

and  passed  on  into  the  darkness  with  noiseless,  moccasined 
stride. 

Waiting  to  see  that  the  crowd  dispersed  without  disorder, 
far  down  the  dim  street  I  heard  the  two  rangers  break  out 
into  a  foolish  catch : 

"  Who  comes  here  ? 
A  grenadier ! 
What  d'ye  lack? 
A  pot  o'  beer! 
Where's  your  penny? 
I  forgot — 
Get  you  gone,  you  red-coat  sot!" 

A  most  uncomfortable  sensation  came  over  me,  although 
I  did  not  fully  understand  that  "  red-coat "  was  a  reproach. 
But  the  loose  laughter,  the  disrespectful  tone,  the  devil-may- 
care  swagger  of  these  fellows  disturbed  me.  What  had  they 
meant  by  "  lobster-back  "  and  "  Tommy  Gage  "  and  "  Bully 
Tryon?"  Surely  they  could  not  have  referred  to  General 
Gage  of  Boston  or  to  our  Governor!  Did  they  mean  Sir 
William's  son,  John,  by  their  "diddle  dumpling"?  What 
quarrel  had  they  with  the  King's  soldiers?  They  had  been 
courteous  enough  to  me,  unless  they  intended  their  song  as 
an  insult. 

The  blood  stung  my  face;  I  put  Warlock  to  a  gallop  and 
overtook  the  pair.  They  were  arm  in  arm,  swaggering  along, 
ogling  the  towns-people,  jostling  the  crowd,  sometimes  mock 
ing  the  bare  shanks  of  a  Highlander,  sometimes  hustling  an 
Indian,  or  tweaking  the  beard  of  a  Jew  peddler,  now  doffing 
their  caps  to  some  pretty  maid,  now  digging  the  ribs  of  a 
sober  Quaker,  and  ever  singing  of  "  diddle  diddle  dumpling  " 
or  of  the  grenadier  and  his  pot  of  beer. 

Such  license  and  freedom  displeased  me.  I  had  never  be 
fore  observed  it  in  our  town  or  among  those  who  came  to 
the  Hall.  However,  I  now  saw  that  I  could  not  with  dignity 
notice  either  their  boorish  gallantry,  their  mischief,  or  the 
songs  they  were  pleased  to  bawl  out  in  the  street. 

I  therefore  passed  them  in  silence,  and,  loosening  bridle, 
set  Warlock  at  a  gallop  for  home. 

I  did  not  comprehend  it  at  the  time;  indeed,  the  whole  mat- 

76 


CARDIGAN 

ter  passed  from  my  mind  ere  the  lights  of  the  Hall  broke 
out  in  the  blue  night.  Yet  the  scene  I  had  witnessed  was  my 
first  view  of  the  unrest  which  tormented  the  whole  land,  the 
first  symptom  of  that  new  fever  for  which  no  remedy  had  yet 
been  found. 


CHAPTER   VI 

IT  was  not  yet  dawn,  though  a  few  birds  sang  in  the  dark 
ness  around  us,  as  Sir  William  and  I  set  off  for  the 
Cayuga's  lodge,  which  stood  beyond  the  town  on  a  rocky 
knoll,  partly  cleared  of  trees. 

The  air  was  cold  and  without  fragrance,  for  in  our  country 
it  is  the  sun  that  draws  the  earth's  sweetness  in  early  spring. 

The  stars  lighted  us  through  the  streets  of  Johnstown, 
empty  of  life  save  for  the  muffled  watchman  dozing  in  his 
own  lanthorn  glow,  who  roused  as  he  heard  us,  and  shook 
his  damp  cloak.  And  far  behind  us  we  heard  his  sing-song : 

"  Four  o'clock !    A  cold,  fair  morn,  and  all  well  1" 

One  inn  there  was,  where  the  dim  bush  swung  wet  and 
sleek  as  a  clinging 'bat,  and  where  stale  embers  of  the  night's 
revelry  still  flickered;  for,  behind  the  lighted  windows,  men 
were  singing,  and  we  heard  them  as  we  passed : 

"Oh,  we're  all  dry 
Wi'  drinking  on't — 
We're  all  dry 
Wi'  drinking  on't. 
The  piper  kissed 
The  fiddler's  wife; 
And  I  can't  sleep 
For  thinking  on't!" 

"Starbuck's  Inn,"  muttered  Sir  William,  grimly.  "He's 
a  Boston  man ;  they  drink  no  tea  there." 

And,  as  we  strode  on  in  the  darkness,  behind  us,  from  the 
lighted  hostelry,  came  a  husky  echo  of  that  foolish  catch : 

"  Diddle  diddle  dumpling, 
My  son  John — " 

So  I  knew  that  my  buckskin  birds  were  still  chirping 
among  us. 

78 


CAKDIGAN 

But  now  we  were  on  the  stony  way  and  the  town  sank 
below  us  as  we  climbed  towards  Quider's  lodge,  knee-deep  in 
dewy  thistles. 

The  spark  of  a  tiny  council  fire  guided  us.  Coming  nearer 
we  smelled  black  birch  burning,  and  we  saw  the  long  thread 
of  aromatic  smoke  mounting  steadily  to  the  paling  stars. 

We  passed  a  young  basswood-tree  from  which  hung  a  flint, 
symbol  of  the  Mohawks.  From  another  chestnut-sapling 
dangled  the  symbol  of  the  Cayugas,  a  pipe.  All  at  once  we 
saw  Quider,  standing  motionless  before  his  lodge. 

Sir  William  drew  flint  and  tinder  from  his  pouch,  and 
sent  a  spark  flying  into  the  dry  tobacco  of  his  pipe.  He  drew 
it  to  a  long  glow,  twice,  and  passed  it,  through  the  smoke  of 
the  fire,  to  Quider. 

I  saw  the  Cayuga's  face  then.  It  was  a  strange  red,  yet  it 
was  not  painted.  He  seemed  ill;  his  eyes  glittered  like  the 
eyes  of  a  lynx. 

And  now,  as  the  Indian  sank  down  into  his  blanket  before 
the  fire,  Sir  William  produced  a  belt  from  the  folds  of  his 
cloak  and  held  it  out.  The  belt  was  black  with  two  figures 
woven  in  white  on  it.  The  hands  of  the  figures  were  clasped 
together.  It  was  a  chain-belt. 

" Brother"  he  said,  slowly :  "  The  clouds  which  hang  over 
us  prevent  us  from  seeing  the  sun.  It  is,  therefore,  our  busi 
ness,  with  this  belt,  to  clear  the  sky.  And  we  also,  with  this 
belt,  set  the  sun  in  its  proper  course,  so  that  we  may  be 
enabled  to  see  the  narrow  path  of  peace." 
(Gives  the  'belt.') 

"Brother:  We  have  heard  what  you  have  said  about  Colo 
nel  Cresap;  we  believe  he  has  been  misled,  and  we  have  re 
kindled  the  council  fire  at  Johnstown  with  embers  from 
Onondaga,  with  embers  from  the  Ohio,  with  coals  from  our 
proper  fireplace  at  Mount  Johnson. 

"  We  uncover  these  fires  to  summon  our  wisest  men  so  that 
they  shall  judge  what  word  shall  be  sent  to  Colonel  Cresap, 
to  secure  you  in  your  treaty  rights  which  I  have  sworn  to 
protect  by  these  strings !" 

(A  bunch  of  strings.} 

"Brother:  By  this  third  and  last  belt  I  send  peace  and 
love  to  my  brethren  of  the  Cayuga;  and  by  this  belt  I  bid 

79 


CARDIGAN 

them  be  patient,  and  remember  that  I  have  never  broken  my 
word  to  those  within  the  Long  House,  nor  yet  to  those  who 
dwell  without  the  doors." 

(A  large  Hack  l)elt  of  seven  rows.} 

Then  Sir  William  drew  from  his  girdle  a  belt  of  wampum, 
so  white  that,  in  the  starlight,  it  shimmered  like  virgin 
silver. 

"  Who  mourns  ?"  asked  Sir  William,  gently,  and  the  Ind 
ian  rose  and  answered :  "  We  mourn — we  of  the  Cayuga — we 
of  three  clans." 

"  What  clans  shall  be  raised  up  ?"  asked  Sir  William. 

"  Three  clans  lie  stricken :  the  Wolf,  the  Plover,  the  Eel. 
Who  shall  raise  them  ?" 

"Brother"  said  Sir  William,  gravely:  "With  this  belt  I 
raise  three  clans;  I  cleanse  their  eyes,  their  ears,  their 
mouths,  their  bodies  with  clean  water.  With  this  belt  I  clear 
their  path  so  that  no  longer  shall  the  dead  stand  in  your  way 
or  in  ours." 

(The  lelt.) 

"Brother:  With  these  strings  I  raise  up  your  head  and 
beg  you  will  no  longer  sorrow." 

(Three  strings.) 

"Brother:  With  this  belt  I  cover  the  graves/' 
(A  great  white  'belt.) 

In  the  dead  stillness  that  followed  the  northern  hill-tops 
slowly  turned  to  pink  and  ashes.  The  day  had  dawned. 


When  again  we  reached  the  village  cocks  were  crowing  in 
every  yard;  the  painted  weather-vanes  glowed  in  the  sun; 
legions  of  birds  sang. 

From  Starbuck's  Inn  stumbled  forth  a  blinking,  soiled,  and 
tipsy  company,  linking  arms,  sidling,  shoving,  lurching,  and 
bawling : 

"  Oh,  we're  all  dry 
Wi'  drinkin'  on't!" 

And  I  plainly  saw  my  two  coureurs-de-bois,  boozy  as 
owls,  a-bussing  the  landlord's  greasy  wench  while  mine  host 
pummelled  them  lustily,  foot  and  fist. 

80 


CAKDIGAN 

So  on  through  the  cold  shadowy  street  and  out  into  the 
sun-warmed  road  again,  and  at  last  to  the  Hall  where,  on 
the  sunny  porch,  stood  Silver  Heels,  hair  in  her  eyes,  her 
naked  white  feet  in  moccasins,  washing  her  cheeks  in  the 
dew. 

"Tut!  tut!"  cried  Sir  William,  sharply.  "What  foolish 
ness  is  this,  Felicity  ?  Off  to  bed !  with  your  bare  legs !" 

"Betty  said  that  beauty  grew  with  dew-baths  at  dawn," 
said  Silver  Heels,  coolly.  "  I  have  bathed  my  limbs  and  my 
body  in  the  grass  and  I'm  all  over  leaves." 

"  Betty's  a  fool !  Be  off  to  bed !— you  little  baggage !"  cried 
Sir  William.  And  away  up-stairs  scampered  Silver  Heels, 
dropping  both  moccasins  in  her  night. 

"  Betty!  Betcy !"  fumed  Sir  William.  "  I'll  Betty  her,  the 
black  witch !"  And  he  stamped  off  to  the  nursery,  muttering 
threats  which  I  knew  would  never  be  fulfilled. 

That  day  Sir  William  sat  in  his  library  writing  with  Mr. 
Butler,  so  there  was  no  school,  and  Peter,  Esk,  Silver  Heels, 
and  I  went  a-fishing  in  the  river.  And  I  did  not  wear  my 
uniform,  for  fear  of  soiling. 

All  day  long,  as  we  sat  in  the  grass  to  watch  our  poles 
a-quiver,  horsemen  from  our  stables  passed  us,  galloping  east 
and  south,  doubtless  bearing  letters  from  Sir  William  to 
Albany  and  New  York — and  farther  south,  perchance — for 
there  came  one  rider  with  six  soldiers  in  escort,  and  two  led 
horses  well  packed,  all  trotting  and  clattering  away  towards 
the  Fort  Pitt  trail. 

That  day  was  the  last  of  the  old  days  for  us ;  but  how  could 
we  suspect  that,  as  we  waded  in  the  shallows  there,  laughing, 
chattering,  splashing  each  other,  and  quarrelling  to  our 
hearts'  content.  The  familiar  river,  which  every  freshet 
changed  just  enough  to  sharpen  our  eyes  for  new  pools, 
slipped  over  its  smooth  golden  stones,  inviting  our  dusty  feet. 
Up  to  our  knees  we  moved  in  the  ice-cold  stream,  climbing 
out  on  the  banks  at  times  to  warm  our  legs  in  the  sun,  and 
lie  deep  in  the  daisies,  winking  at  the  swallows  in  the  sky. 

We  played  all  our  old  games  again — but  that  we  played 
them  for  the  last  time,  none  of  us  suspected.  I  held  a  butter 
cup  under  Silver  Heels's  snowy  chin  to  prove  her  love  for 
cheese;  I  played  buzzing  bee-songs  on  grass-blades;  I  whit- 
F  81 


CAKDIGAN 

tied  whistles  for  Peter  and  Esk;  I  skipped  flat  stones;  I  col 
oured  Silver  Heels's  toes  yellow  with  dandelion  juice  so  she 
should  ever  afterwards  wade  in  gold — this  at  her  own  desire. 
Twice  those  tiny  spotted  lady-beetles  perched  on  my  hand, 
and  Silver  Heels,  to  ward  off  threatening  evil,  took  them  on 
the  pink  tip  of  her  little  finger,  repeating : 

"  Lady-bird,  Lady-bird,  fly  away  home ! 
Thy  lodge  is  afire!   thy  babies  will  burn!" 

Which  she  said  would  save  me  from  torture  at  the  stake 
some  day. 

The  late  sun  settled  in  the  blue  ashes  of  the  western  forests 
as  we  pulled  on  our  stockings  and  moccasins  and  gathered  up 
our  strings  of  silvery  fish. 

For  a  whole  day  I  had  carefully  forgotten  that  I  was  any 
thing  but  a  comrade  to  these  children;  but  I  did  not  know 
how  wise  I  had  been  to  lay  by,  in  my  memory,  one  more  per 
fect  day  ere  the  evil  days  came  and  the  years  drew  nigh 
wherein,  God  wot !  I  found  no  pleasure. 

Silver  Heels  and  I  walked  back  together  through  the  even 
ing  glow,  and  I  remember  that  the  windows  of  our  house  were 
all  on  fire  from  the  sun  as  we  climbed  the  hill  under  the 
splendour  of  the  western  sky. 

As  we  came  through  the  orchard  I  saw  Sir  William  sitting 
on  the  stone  seat  near  the  bee-hives.  His  chin  had  fallen  on 
his  chest,  both  hands  rested  on  his  cane,  and  over  his  body 
fell  the  glory  of  the  red  sky. 

He  heard  us  as  we  came  through  the  orchard,  and  he 
raised  his  head  to  smile  a  welcome.  But  there  was  that  in 
his  eyes  which  told  me  to  stay  there  with  him  after  the 
others  had  trooped  in  to  be  fed,  and  I  waited. 

Presently  he  said :  "  Quider  is  sick.  Did  you  discover  any 
thing  in  his  face  that  might  betoken — a — a  fever  ?" 

"  His  eyes,"  I  said. 

"  Was  he  blotched  ?    My  sight  is  dim  these  years.' 

"  His  face  was  over-red,"  I  answered,  wondering. 

Sir  William  said  nothing  more.  After  a  little  while  he 
rose,  leaning  on  his  cane,  and  passed  heavily  under  the  fruit- 
trees  towards  the  house. 

That  night  came  our  doctor,  Pierson,  galloping  from  the 

82 


CARDIGAN 

village  with  an  urgent  message  for  Sir  William.  Later  I 
saw  soldiers  set  out  with  bayonets  on  their  muskets,  and, 
with  them,  the  doctor,  leading  his  horse. 

In  the  morning  we  knew  that  the  small-pox  had  seized  the 
Cayuga,  and  that  our  soldiers  patrolled  Quider's  lodge  to 
warn  all  men  of  the  black  pest. 

The  days  which  followed  were  busy  days  for  us  all — days 
fraught  with  bustle  and  perplexity — hours  which  hurried  on, 
crowding  one  on  another  like  pages  turning  in  a  book — turn 
ing  too  swiftly  for  me  to  cipher  the  ominous  text. 

All  Sir  William's  hopes  of  averting  war  were  now  centred 
in  the  stricken  Cayuga.  He  and  I  haunted  the  neighbourhood 
of  Quider's  lodge,  staring  for  hours  at  the  silent  hut  in  the 
clearing,  or,  rambling  by  starlight,  we  watched  the  candle 
burning  in  the  lodge  door  as  though  it  were  the  flame  of 
life,  now  flaring,  now  sinking  in  its  socket. 

On  such  rambles  he  seldom  spoke,  but  sometimes  he  leaned 
on  my  shoulder  as  we  walked,  and  his  very  hand  seemed  bur 
dened  with  the  weight  of  his  cares. 

Once,  however,  when  from  the  sentinels  we  learned  that 
Quider  might  live,  Sir  William  appeared  almost  gay,  and 
we  walked  to  a  little  hill,  all  silvery  in  the  light  of  the  young 
moon,  and  rested  on  a  rock. 

"  Black  Care  rides  behind  the  horseman,  but — I  have  dis 
mounted,"  he  said,  lightly.  "  Quider  will  live,  I  warrant 
you,  barring  those  arrows  of  outrageous  fortune  of  which 
you  have  doubtless  heard,  Michael." 

"  What  may  those  same  arrows  be  marked  with  ?"  I  asked, 
innocently. 

"  With  the  totem  of  Kismet,  my  boy." 

I  did  not  know  that  totem,  and  said  so,  whereupon  he  fell 
a-laughing  and  pinched  my  cheek,  saying,  "  Are  there  no 
people  in  the  world  but  the  Six  Nations  of  the  Long  House  ?" 

I  answered  cautiously :  "  Oe-yen-de-hit  Sar-a-ta-ke,"  mean 
ing,  "  there  are  favourable  signs  (of  people)  where  the  tracks 
of  (their)  heels  may  be  seen.  I  have  not  travelled ;  there  may 
be  other  tracks  in  the  world." 

"  Ten-ca-re  Ne-go-ni,"  replied  Sir  William,  gravely.  "  He 
scatters  His  people  everywhere,  Michael.  The  world  lies  out 
side  of  the  Long  House  1" 

83 


CARDIGAN 

"I  shall  say  to  the  world  I  come  from  Ko-lan-e-ka,  and 
that  I  am  kin  to  you,  sir,"  said  I,  dropping  easily  into  that 
intimate  dialect  we  children  often  used  together,  or  in  the 
family  circle. 

"  The  world  will  say :  '  He  comes  from  Da-o-sa-no-geh,  the 
place  without  a  name;  let  him  return  to  The-ya-o-guin,  the 
Gray-Haired,  who  sent  him  out  so  ignorant.' " 

"  Do  you  say  that,  sir,  because  I  am  ignorant  of  the 
poets  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Even  women  know  the  poets  in  these  days,"  he  said, 
smiling.  "  You  would  not  wish  to  know  less  than  your  own 
wife,  would  you  ?" 

"  My  wife !"  I  exclaimed,  scornfully. 

"  Why,  yes,"  said  Sir  William,  much  amused ;  "  you  will 
marry  one  day,  I  suppose." 

After  a  moment  I  said : 

"  Is  Silver  Heels  going  to  marry  Mr.  Butler  ?" 

"  I  hope  so,"  replied  Sir  William,  a  little  surprised.  "  Mr. 
Butler  is  a  gentleman  of  culture  and  wealth.  Felicity  has 
no  large  dower,  and  I  can  leave  but  little  if  I  provide  for  all 
my  children.  I  deem  it  most  fortunate  that  Captain  Butler 
has  spoken  to  me." 

"  If,"  said  I,  slowly,  "  Silver  Heels  and  I  are  obliged  to 
marry  somebody,  why  can  we  not  marry  each  other  ?" 

Sir  William  stared  at  me. 

"  Are  you  in  love  with  Felicity  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Oh  no,  sir !"  I  cried,  resentfully. 

"  Is  she — does  she  fancy  she  is  in  love  with  you  ?"  insisted 
Sir  William,  in  growing  astonishment. 

"  No !  no !"  I  said,  hastily,  for  his  question  annoyed  and 
irritated  me.  "  But  I  only  don't  want  her  to  marry  Mr. 
Butler;  I'd  even  be  willing  to  marry  her  myself,  though  I 
once  saw  a  maid  in  Albany — " 

"What  the  devil  is  all  this  damned  nonsense?"  cried  Sir 
William,  testily.  "  What  d'ye  mean  by  this  idiot's  babble  ? 
Eh?" 

The  expression  of  my  face  at  this  outburst  first  discon 
certed,  then  sent  him  into  a  roar  of  laughter.  Such  startled 
and  injured  innocence  softened  his  impatience;  he  carefully 
explained  to  me  that,  as  Felicity  had  no  fortune,  and  I  barely 

84 


CAKDIGAN 

sufficient  to  sustain  me,  such  a  match  could  but  prove  a 
sorry  and  foolish  one  for  Silver  Heels  and  for  me. 

"  If  you  were  older,"  he  said,  "  and  if  you  loved  each  other, 
I  should,  perhaps,  be  weak  enough  not  to  interfere,  though 
wisdom  prompted.  But  it  is  best  that  Felicity  should  wed 
Mr.  Butler,  and  that  as  soon  as  may  be,  for  I  am  growing  old 
very  fast,  older  than  I  care  to  confess,  older  than  I  dare  be 
lieve.  This  I  say  to  you,  for  I  have  come  to  trust  you  and 
to  lean  on  you,  Michael;  but  you  must  never  hint  to  others 
that  I  complain  of  age  or  feebleness.  Do  you  understand  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  I  answered,  soberly. 

"  Besides,"  said  Sir  William,  with  a  forced  smile,  "  I  have 
much  to  do  yet ;  I  mean  to  accomplish  a  deal  of  labour  before 
I — well,  before  many  weeks.  Come,  lad;  we  must  not  grope 
out  here  seeking  unhappiness  under  these  pretty  stars.  We 
are  much  to  each  other;  we  shall  be  much  more — eh?  Come, 
then;  Quider  will  live,  spite  of  those  same  slings  and  arrows 
of  which  you  know  not  the  totem  marks." 

As  we  descended  the  hill  through  shadowy  drifts  of  spice- 
fern.  Sir  William  looked  long  and  hopefully  at  the  candle 
burning  in  Quider's  hut. 

"  Ho-no-we-eh-to,"  he  murmured ;  "  I  have  given  him  white 
belts — ho-way-ha-tah-koo ! — they  shall  disinter  him,  though 
he  lie  dead.  He  came,  bearing  wampum;  shall  his  spirit  go 
out  bearing  a  quiver — o-tat-sheh-te  ? — hoo-sah-ha-ho  ?" 

"  So-yone-wes ;  sa-tea-na-wat ;  he  has  a  long  wampum  belt ; 
he  holds  it  fast,  sir,"  I  said,  cheerfully  mixing  the  tongues  of 
the  Six  Nations  to  piece  out  my  symbol. 

So  we  went  home,  comforted  and  hopeful;  but  the  morrow 
brought  gravest  tidings  from  Quider's  lodge,  for  the  Cayuga 
had  fallen  a-raving  in  his  fever,  and  it  was  necessary  to  tie 
him  down  lest  he  break  away. 

Weighed  down  with  anxiety  concerning  what  Colonel  Cre- 
sap  might  be  doing  on  the  Ohio,  dreading  an  outbreak  which 
must  surely  come  if  the  Cayuga  belts  remained  unanswered, 
Sir  William,  in  his  sore  perplexity,  turned  once  more  to  me 
and  opened  his  brave  heart. 

"  I  know  not  what  intrigues  may  be  afoot,  what  double  in 
trigues  revolve  within,  what  triple  motives  urge  the  men  who 
have  despatched  Colonel  Cresap  on  this  adventure.  But  I 

85 


CAKDIGAN 

know  this,  that  should  Cresap's  colonials  in  their  blindness 
attack  my  Cayugas,  a  thousand  hatchets  will  sparkle  in  these 
hills,  and  the  people  of  the  Long  House  will  never  sit  idle 
when  these  colonies  and  England  draw  the  sword!" 

Again  that  cold,  despairing  amazement  crept  into  my  heart, 
for  I  could  no  longer  misunderstand  Sir  William  that  his 
sympathies  were  not  with  our  King,  but  with  the  provinces. 

He  appeared  to  divine  my  troubled  thoughts ;  I  knew  it  by 
the  painful  smile  which  passed  like  a  pale  light  from  his  eyes, 
fading  in  the  shadowy  hollows  which  care  and  grief  had  dug 
in  his  good,  kind  face. 

"  Learn  from  others,  not  from  me,  what  acid  chemistry  is 
changing  the  heart  of  this  broad  land  to  stone,"  he  said. 

"  I  cannot  understand,  sir,"  I  broke  out,  "  why  we  should 
warn  Colonel  Cresap.  Is  it  loyalty  for  us  to  do  so  ?" 

Sir  William  turned  his  sunken  eyes  on  me. 

"  It  is  loyalty  to  God,"  he  said. 

The  solemn  peace  in  his  eyes  awed  me;  the  ravage  which 
care  had  left  in  his  visage  frightened  me. 

He  spoke  again : 

"  I  may  have  to  answer  to  Him  soon,  my  boy.  I  have 
searched  my  heart;  there  is  no  dishonour  in  it." 

We  had  been  sitting  on  the  bed  in  my  little  chamber.  The 
window  was  open,  the  breeze  fluttered  the  cotton  curtains,  a 
spicy  breeze,  laden  with  essence  of  the  fern  which  covers  our 
fields,  and  smells  like  bay-leaves  crushed  in  one's  palm. 

The  peace  of  Sabbath  brooded  over  all,  a  cow-bell  tinkled 
from  the  pasture,  birds  chirped.  Sir  William  rose  to  stand 
by  the  window,  and  his  gaze  softened  towards  the  sunlit 
meadows  where  buttercups  swayed  with  daisies,  and  blue 
flower-de-luce  quivered  in  the  wind. 

"  God !"  he  muttered,  under  his  breath.  "  That  this  sweet 
peace  on  earth  should  be  assailed  by  men !" 

Again  into  my  breast  came  that  strange  uneasiness  which 
this  month  of  May  had  brought  to  us  along  with  the  robins 
and  the  new  leaves,  and  which  I  began  to  breathe  in  with  the 
summer  wind  itself — a  vague  unrest,  a  breathless  waiting — 
for  what? — I  did  not  know. 

And  so  it  went  on,  Sir  William  and  I  walking  sometimes 
alone  together  on  the  hill-sides,  speaking  soberly  of  that 

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future  which  concerned  our  land  and  kin,  I  listening  in  si 
lence  with  apprehension  ever  growing. 

Often  during  that  week  came  Mohawk  sachems  and  chiefs 
of  the  Senecas  and  Onondagas  to  the  Hall,  pestering  Sir 
William  with  petty  disputes  to  judge  between  them.  Some 
times  it  was  complaint  against  drunken  soldiers  who  annoyed 
them,  sometimes  a  demand  for  justice,  touching  the  old  mat 
ters  of  the  moonlight  survey,  in  which  one,  Collins,  did 
shamefully  wrong  the  Mohawks  by  stealing  land  ;  and  William 
Alexander,  who  is  now  Lord  Sterling,  and  William  Living 
ston  did  profit  thereby — guiltily  or  innocently,  I  know  not. 

But  these  troubles  Sir  William  settled  impartially  and 
with  that  simple  justice  which  made  fraud  loathsome,  even 
to  frauds. 

I  do  remember  how  he  scourged  and  scored  that  vil 
lain  German,  Klock,  for  making  the  Mohawks  drunk  to  rob 
them  of  their  lands  by  cunning;  and  I  recall  how  he  sum 
moned  Counsellor  John  Chambers  to  witness  justice  between 
Mr.  Livingston  and  the  Mohawks : 

"  Billy  Livingston,"  said  Sir  William,  "  bear  this  message 
to  Billy  Alexander,  that  the  land  belongs  not  to  him  or  to 
you,  but  to  my  Mohawks!  It  is  enough  that  I  say  this  to 
you,  for  you  are  my  old  comrades  and  honoured  friends,  and  I 
am  assured  you  will  relinquish  all  title  to  what  is  not  your 
own.  But,  by  God !  Billy,  if  you  do  not,  I  shall  spend  every 
penny  of  my  own  on  lawyers  to  drive  you  out — every  farthing, 
though  it  beggars  me !" 

This  was  but  one  of  many  scenes  at  which  I  was  present. 
Why  Sir  William  always  called  me  to  bear  him  company  in 
such  private  matters,  I  could  not  at  once  comprehend.  Little 
by  little,  however,  I  saw  that  it  was  because  of  his  trust  in 
me,  and  his  desire  that  I  should  know  of  such  affairs;  and 
his  love  and  confidence  made  me  proud.  Was  I  not  the  only 
person  in  the  world  who  knew  his  sentiments  and  his  desire 
to  stop  Colonel  Cresap  on  the  Ohio,  lest,  in  ignorance,  he 
should  turn  the  entire  Six  Nations  against  the  colonies  ? 

Had  he  not  told  me,  sadly,  that  he  could  not  speak  of 
this  plan  even  to  his  own  son,  Sir  John  Johnson,  lest  his 
son,  placing  loyalty  to  the  King  before  obedience  to  his 
father,  should  thwart  Sir  William,  and  even  aid  Colonel 

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CAKDIGAN 

Cresap  to  anger  the  Cayugas,  and  so  injure  the  cause  of  the 
colonies  ? 

He  told  me,  too,  that  he  could  not  confide  in  Mr.  Butler 
or  in  his  father,  Colonel  John  Butler;  neither  dared  he  trust 
his  sons-in-law,  Colonel  Glaus  or  Colonel  Guy  Johnson,  al 
though  they  served  as  his  deputies  in  Indian  aifairs. 

All  of  these  gentlemen  were,  first  of  all,  loyal  to  our  King, 
and  all  of  them,  clearly  foreseeing  a  struggle  between  King 
and  colonies,  would  not  raise  a  finger  to  prevent  Colonel 
Cresap  from  driving  the  Six  Nations  as  allies  into  the  King's 
arms. 

"  What  I  am  striving  for,"  said  Sir  William  to  me,  again 
and  again,  "  is  to  so  conduct  that  these  Indians  on  our  fron 
tiers  shall  take  neither  one  side  nor  the  other,  but  remain 
passive  while  the  storm  rages.  To  work  openly  for  this  is 
not  possible.  If  it  were  possible  to  work  openly,  and  if 
Quider  should  die,  I  would  send  such  a  message  to  my  Lord 
Dunmore  of  Virginia  as  would  make  his  bloodless  ears  burn  I 
And  they  may  burn  yet !" 

At  my  expression  of  horrified  surprise  Sir  William  hesi 
tated,  then  struck  his  fist  into  the  open  palm  of  his  left 
hand. 

"  Why  should  you  not  know  it  ?"  he  cried.  "  You  are  the 
only  one  of  all  I  can  trust !" 

He  paused,  eying  me  intently. 

"  Can  I  not  trust  you,  dear  lad  ?"  he  said,  gently. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  I  cried,  in  an  overwhelming  rush  of  pity  and 
love.  "  You  are  first  in  my  heart,  sir — and  then  the  King/' 

Sir  William  smiled  and  thought  awhile.  Then  he  con 
tinued  : 

"  You  are  to  know,  Michael,  that  Lord  Dunmore,  Governor 
of  Virginia,  is,  in  my  opinion,  at  the  bottom  of  this.  He  it 
is  who,  foreseeing  the  future,  as  do  all  thinking  men,  has  sent 
the  deluded  Cresap  to  pick  a  quarrel  with  my  Cayugas,  know 
ing  that  he  is  making  future  allies  for  England.  It  is  vile! 
It  is  a  monstrous  thing !  It  is  not  loyalty,  it  is  treason I" 

He  struck  his  pinched  forehead  and  strode  up  and  down. 

"  Can  Dunmore  know  what  he  is  doing?  God !  The  horror 
of  it! — the  horror  of  border  war!  Has  Dunmore  ever  seen 
how  savages  fight?  Has  he  seen  raw  scalps  ripped  from 

88 


CARDIGAN 

babies?  Has  he  seen  naked  prisoners  writhing  at  the  stake, 
drenched  in  blood,  eyeless  sockets  raised  to  the  skies  ?" 

He  stood  still  in  the  middle  of  the  room.  There  was  a 
sweat  on  his  cheek-bones. 

"  If  we  must  fight,  let  us  fight  like  men,"  he  muttered, 
"  without  fear  or  favour,  without  treachery !  But,  Michael, 
woe  to  the  side  that  calls  on  these  savages  for  aid!  Woe  to 
them !  Woe !  Woe !  For  the  first  scalp  taken  will  turn  this 
border  into  such  a  hell  of  blood  and  flame  as  the  devil  him 
self  in  his  old  hell  never  dreamed  of !" 

This  outburst  left  me  stunned.  Save  for  Sir  William5  I 
knew  not  where  now  to  anchor  my  faith.  Our  King  already 
in  these  few  days  had  become  to  my  youthful  mind  a  dis 
tant  wavering  shadow,  no  longer  the  rock  to  which  loyal 
hearts  must  cling — unquestioning.  And  it  is  ever  so;  old 
faiths  fall  when  hearts  question,  and  I  know  not  whether 
hearts  be  right  or  wrong  to  strive  so  hard  for  the  answer 
which  is  their  own  undoing. 

Still,  however,  in  that  distant  England  which  I  had  never 
seen,  the  King,  though  fading  to  a  phantom  in  my  heart,  yet 
loomed  up  still  a  vast  and  mighty  shape,  awful  as  the  threat 
ening  majesty  of  a  dim  cloud  on  the  world's  edge,  behind 
which  lightning  glimmers. 


CHAPTER   VII 

NOW  the  dark  pages  turning  in  the  book  of  fate  were 
flying  faster  than  young  eyes  could  mark.  First  to  the 
Hall  came  Thayendanegea,  brother  to  Mistress  Molly,  and 
embraced  us  all,  eagerly  admiring  my  uniform  with  an  Ind 
ian's  frank  naivete,  caressing  Silver  Heels's  curly  pate  and 
praising  her  beauty,  and  fondling  Esk  and  Peter  with  Al 
bany  sweets  till  I  forbade  them  to  approach,  for  their  sticki 
ness  did  disgust  me. 

I  had  always  been  greatly  attached  to  Thayendanegea,  for 
he  was  a  frank,  affectionate  youth,  though  a  blooded  Mohawk, 
and  possessing  the  courtesy,  gentleness,  and  graces  of  true 
quality. 

Clothed  like  an  English  gentleman,  bearing  himself  like 
a  baronet,  he  conducted  to  the  admiration  and  respect  of  all, 
and  this  though  he  was  the  great  war-chief  of  the  Mohawks, 
and  already  an  honoured  leader  in  the  council  of  the  Six 
Nations. 

He  never  became  a  sachem,  but  remained  always  the  most 
respected  and  powerful  leader  in  the  Long  House.  Even 
Huron  and  Delaware  listened  when  he  spoke.  He  never 
treated  the  Lenni-Lenape  as  women,  and  for  this  reason  they 
listened  always  willingly  to  the  voice  of  Joseph  Brant,  called 
Thayendanegea. 

Now,  though  Sir  William  had  hitherto  trusted  Brant  in 
all  things,  I  noticed  he  spoke  not  to  Brant  of  Quider's  mis 
sion,  though  Mr.  Butler  had  already  scented  a  mystery  in 
the  Cayuga's  visit,  and  often  asked  why  Quider  had  never 
spoken  his  message;  for  he  was  not  aware  that  both  message 
and  answer  had  been  delivered  long  ago. 

That  week  there  were  three  council  fires  at  the  Lower 
Castle,  which  Brant  and  Mr.  Butler  attended  in  company 
with  a  certain  thin  little  Seneca  chief  called  Red  Jacket,  a 

90 


CARDIGAN 

filthy,  sly,  and  sullen  creature,  who  was,  perhaps,   a  great 
orator,  but  all  the  world  knew  him  for  a  glutton  and  a  coward. 

Brant  despised  him,  and  it  was  Brant,  too,  who  had  given 
to  Red  Jacket  that  insulting  title,  "  The  Cow-Killer,"  which 
even  the  Mohawk  children  shouted  when  Red  Jacket  came  to, 
Johnson  Hall  after  the  council  fires  had  been  covered  at  the 
Lower  Castle. 

Our  house  had  now  been  thronged  with  Indians  for  a  week. 
Eleven  hundred  Mohawks,  Cayugas,  Senecas,  Onondagas, 
and  a  few  Tuscaroras  lay  encamped  around  us,  holding  long 
talks  with  Red  Jacket,  Mr.  Butler,  and  Brant;  but  Sir  Will 
iam  attended  no  fires,  and  very  soon  I  discovered  the  reason. 
For  suddenly  Sir  John  Johnson  arrived  at  the  Hall,  and  with 
him  Colonel  Daniel  Claus  and  his  lady  from  Albany,  which 
abrupt  advents  began  a  stir  and  bustle  among  us  that  in 
creased  as,  day  by  day,  new  guests  arrived  at  our  house. 
Johnson  Hall,  Colonel  Guy  Johnson's  house,  and  the  house 
of  Colonel  John  Butler  were  now  crowded  to  overflow  with 
guests.  Sachems  and  chiefs  of  the  Oneidas  arrived,  officers 
from  the  Royal  Americans  and  from  the  three  regiments  of 
militia  which  Tryon  County  maintained,  officers  from  my 
own  troop  of  irregular  horse  quartered  at  Albany,  and  whom 
I  now  met  for  the  first  time ;  and  finally,  in  prodigious  state, 
came  our  Governor  Tryon  from  New  York,  with  a  troop  of 
horse  which,  for  beauty  of  clothing  and  impudence  of  de 
portment,  I  had  never  seen  equalled. 

The  house  rang  with  laughter  and  the  tinkle  of  glasses 
from  morning  until  night;  on  the  stairs  there  swept  a  con 
tinuous  rush  and  rustle  of  ladies'  petticoats  like  the  wind 
blowing  through  corn.  Ladies  filled  the  house;  there  were 
maids  and  lackeys  and  footmen  and  chair-bearers  and  slaves 
thronging  porch  and  hallway,  new  faces  everywhere,  new 
uniforms,  new  gowns,  new  phrases,  new  dishes  at  table,  new 
airs  at  the  spinet,  new  songs. 

"  Tiddle  tinkle  "  went  our  spinet  all  day  and  night,  with 
some  French  ladies  from  Saint  Sacrement  a-singing  la-la-la. 

As  by  a  magic  touch  the  old  homely  life  had  vanished,  old 
faces  disappeared,  old  voices  were  silent.  I  looked  in  vain 
for  Silver  Heels,  for  Peter,  for  Esk.  They  were  drowned  in 
this  silken  sea. 

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CAKDIGAN 

And  now,  piling  confusion  on  confusion,  conies  from  the 
south  my  Lord  Dunmore  from  Virginia,  satin-coated,  fop 
pish,  all  powder  and  frill,  and  scented  like  a  French  lady. 
But  oh,  the  gallant  company  he  brought  to  Johnson  Hall — 
those  courtly  Virginians  with  their  graces  and  velvet  voices, 
with  their  low  bows  and  noiseless  movements,  elegant  as 
panthers,  suave  as  Jesuits,  and  proud  as  heirs  to  kingdoms  all. 

Some  lodged  at  the  inns  in  town,  some  with  us,  some  with 
Sir  John  Johnson,  and  others  with  Colonel  Butler.  But  they 
all  thronged  our  house,  day  and  night,  till  I  was  like  to  stifle 
with  the  perfumes  and  scented  clothes  of  our  white  guests 
and  the  wild-animal  aroma  of  the  Indians. 

For  two  days,  indeed,  I  saw  little  of  the  company,  for  I 
lodged  at  the  block-house  with  Mr.  Duncan,  keeping  an  eye 
on  the  pest-hut  where  lay  the  stricken  Cayuga;  this  by  Sir 
William's  orders,  though  warning  me  to  approach  the  hut  no 
nearer  than  the  sentries,  and  that  with  my  hanker  to  my 
nose  and  a  lump  of  sulphur  in  my  mouth. 

As  for  Silver  Heels,  I  saw  her  but  twice,  and  then  she  dis 
appeared  entirely.  I  was  sorry  for  her,  believing  she  had 
been  cooped  within  the  limits  of  nursery  and  play-room;  but 
I  had  my  pity  for  my  pains,  as  it  turned  out. 

It  came  about  in  this  way:  I  had  been  relieved  of  duties 
at  the  block-house  to  receive  reports  of  Quider's  sickness,  as 
it  was  now  believed  certain  that  the  Cayuga  must  die;  and 
I  had  been  ordered  to  dress  in  my  new  uniform,  to  accompany 
Sir  William  to  a  review  of  our  honest  Tryon  County  militia, 
now  assembling  at  Johnstown  and  Schenectady. 

It  was  early  morning,  with  the  fields  all  dewy  and  a  west 
wind  blowing  the  daisies  into  furrows,  when  I  left  my  cham 
ber,  booted,  hair  powdered  in  a  club  and  tied  with  black,  and 
my  new  silver  gorget  shining  like  the  sun  on  my  breast.  I 
was  in  dress  uniform,  scarlet  coat,  buff  smalls,  sash  and 
sword  glittering,  and  I  meant  to  cut  a  figure  that  day  which 
people  might  remember.  But  Lord!  Even  on  the  staircase 
I  found  myself  in  a  crowd  of  officers  all  laces  and  sashes  and 
gold  brocade,  and  buttons  like  yellow  stars  dancing  on  cuff 
and  collar.  My  uniform  was  but  a  spark  in  the  fire;  I  was 
obscured,  nay  snuffed  out  in  the  midst  of  the  Virginians  with 
their  flame-colored  scarfs  and  cockades,  and  the  New  York 

92 


CARDIGAN 

officers  of  the  Governor's  dragoon  guard,  gorgeous  as  the 
drummers  of  the  French  grenadiers. 

Smothered  by  the  hot  air,  the  perfumes  and  pomatum  on 
stock  and  queue,  the  warm  cloying  odour  of  dressed  leather 
and  new  gloves  of  kid-skin,  I  made  my  way  into  the  hall, 
but  found  it  packed  with  ladies,  all  a-fanning  and  rustling, 
with  maids  tying  on  sun-masks  and  pinning  plumes  to  rolls 
of  hair  that  towered  like  the  Adirondacks,  all  vegetation 
and  birds. 

Hat  under  arm,  hand  on  hilt,  I  did  bow  and  smile  and  be 
seech  for  a  free  passage  to  the  fresh  air,  and  it  made  me 
think  of  edging  through  the  barn-yard  with  the  feathered 
flock  crowding  and  ruffling  a  thousand  feathers.  And  as  I 
threaded  my  way,  minding  my  steps  as  well  I  might,  it  was : 
"  Oh,  la !  My  lady's  skirt !"  and  "  Lud !  The  lad's  spur's  in 
the  lace !"  "  My  mantua !"  "  Ah !  my  scarf's  a-trail  on  the 
creature's  sword!"  "  Grand  dieu!  et  ma  robe,  monsieur!" 

Standing  at  last  in  the  portico  with  the  fresh  wind  in  my 
face,  I  perceived  Sir  William,  attended  by  Sir  John  and 
Colonel  Claus,  inspecting  the  guard  at  the  north  block-house, 
and  I  made  haste  to  join  them,  running  fast,  to  the  danger  of 
my  powdered  hair,  which  scattered  a  small  snowy  cloud  in 
the  wind. 

"  Gad !  The  lad's  powdered  like  a  Virginian !"  said  Sir 
William,  laughing  and  drawing  me  to  him,  pinching  my  ears 
and  chin.  Then  he  dusted  the  powder  from  my  shoulders 
and  turned  me  around,  muttering  to  himself,  "  A  proper  of 
ficer,  damme !  a  well-groomed  lad ;  eh,  Jack  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Sir  John,  with  his  slow,  reserved  eyes  shifting 
from  my  hat  to  my  spurs.  He  gave  me  a  damp  finger  to 
press,  then  his  indifferent  gaze  wandered  to  the  meadows 
below,  where  the  brown  and  yellow  uniforms  of  Colonel  But 
ler's  militia  regiment  spread  out  like  furrows  of  autumn 
leaves. 

I  paid  my  respects  to  Colonel  Claus,  who  honoured  me  with 
a  careless  nod,  and  passed  before  me  to  greet  Colonel  John 
Butler  and  his  son,  Captain  Walter  Butler. 

The  Butlers  were  of  a  stripe;  there  was  the  blank  fixed 
eye  of  the  night-bird  in  father  and  son,  the  deathly  grimace 
to  do  duty  as  a  smile,  the  mechanical  observances  of  polite 

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CARDIGAN 

company,  the  compliments,  the  bows,  the  carriage  of  gentle 
men,  but  back  of  it  something  lifeless,  something  slow  and 
terrifying  in  voice  and  step — God  knows  what  I  mean!  Yet 
often  and  often  it  came  to  me  that  inside  their  bodies  some 
thing  was  lying  dead — their  souls,  perhaps. 

I  stood  behind  Sir  William,  drawing  on  my  gloves  of  kid- 
skin,  observing  the  officers  as  they  came  up  to  join  the  staff, 
and  stand  and  watch  the  two  remaining  regiments  marching 
into  the  meadow  below.  These  regiments  were  clothed  in 
brown,  green,  and  scarlet,  one  wearing  green  coats,  t'other 
bright  red  with  yellow  facings,  an  over-gaudy  effect  and  dis 
turbing  to  my  senses  like  the  sounds  of  a  spinet  when  Peter 
pounded  on  the  keys. 

They  had  built  a  gayly  painted  wooden  pavilion  in  the 
meadow  for  the  ladies  and  Governor  Tryon  and  my  Lord 
Dunmore,  and  now  came  the  coaches  and  calashes  burdened 
with  beauty  and  tickled  and  tricked  out  in  ribbons,  and 
the  .Virginians  all  a-horse,  caracoling  beside  the  vehicles,  a 
brave,  bright  company,  by  Heaven! — for  they  rode  perfectly 
and  with  a  gracious  carelessness  which  contrasted  favourably 
with  the  stiff,  solid  gallop  of  our  Governor  Tryon's  dragoon 
guard. 

Behind  us  the  grooms  were  bringing  up  our  mounts,  and  I 
slyly  looked  for  Warlock,  doubting  lest  he  be  'portioned  to 
some  horseless  guest.  But  there  the  dear  fellow  stood,  ears 
pointed,  straight  at  me,  and  snorting  for  the  caress  of  my 
hand  on  his  muzzle. 

"  Mount,  gentlemen !"  said  Sir  William,  briskly,  setting 
toe  to  the  stirrup  held  by  young  Bareshanks;  and  up  into  our 
saddles  we  popped,  while  the  trumpet  blew  from  the  block 
house,  and  down  in  the  meadow  the  long  painted  drums 
boomed  out  the  salute. 

As  we  entered  the  meadow  at  a  trot  I  caught  a  good,  quick 
picture  of  the  pavilion  with  its  flags,  its  restless  rows  of 
ladies  unmasking,  fluttering  kerchiefs  and  fans  and  scarfs; 
and  my  Lord  Dunmore  all  over  gold  and  blue,  blinking  like 
a  cat  in  the  sun,  and  the  crimson  of  the  Governor's  mantle, 
clasped  with  gilt,  falling  from  his  solid  epaulets.  This  I 
saw  clearly,  but  as  we  broke  into  a  gallop  across  the  clover, 
the  colours  ran  like  tinted  fires ;  the  dull  reds  and  blues  of  the 

94 


CARDIGAN 

Indians,  the  shimmer  on  gorgets  and  buckles,  the  rippling 
flags;  yet  it  seemed  as  I  flew  past  that  I  had  seen  a  face  up 
there  which  I  knew  well  yet  did  not  know,  like  those  familiar 
eyes  that  look  at  us  in  dreams.  Surely  it  was  not  Silver 
Heels.  But  there  was  no  time  for  speculation  now.  Rub-a- 
dub-dub!  Bang!  Bang!  Our  brigade  band  was  marching 
past  with  our  head  groom  playing  a  French  horn  very  badly, 
and  old  Norman  McLeod  a-fifing  it,  wrong  foot  foremost, 
which  caused  Sir  William  to  mutter  "  damn !"  and  rub  his 
nose  in  mortification. 

"  Hay-foot !  Straw-foot !"  simpered  a  cornet  of  dragoons 
behind  me,  and  I  turned  on  him,  and  gave  him  a  look. 

"  Did  you  say  you  were  hungry  ?"  I  whispered,  backing  my 
horse  gently  against  the  horse  of  the  insolent  cornet. 

"  Hungry  ?"  he  stammered. 

"  You  mentioned  hay,  sir,"  I  said,  fiercely. 

He  turned  red  as  a  pippin  but  did  not  reply. 

Swallowing  my  anger  and  my  shame  for  our  militia  yokels, 
1  glared  at  the  head  of  Colonel  Butler's  regiment,  now  pass 
ing,  and  was  comforted,  for  the  clod-hoppers  marched  like 
regulars  with  a  solid  double  rank  of  fifers  shrilling  out 
"  Down,  Derry,  down !"  as  smart  as  you  please. 

After  them  came  the  green-coated  varlets,  with  a  good 
round  stench  of  the  stables  from  their  ranks,  yet  footing  it 
proudly,  and  their  fifes  ringing  a  barbarous  tune  which  is 
lately  somewhat  in  vogue  among  us,  the  same  being  called 
"  Yankee  Doodle." 

Followed  our  three  companies  of  Royal  Americans,  drums 
beating  "  The  Huron,"  a  most  warming  march  and  loudly 
applauded  by  the  long  lines  of  country  folk  and  Indians, 
sitting  on  the  stone  walls;  and  after  them  the  inharmonious 
regiment  in  yellow  and  red,  with  two  men  drunk  and  a  dog 
fight  in  the  rear,  soberly  observed  by  my  Lord  Dunmore,  who 
laid  a  bet  with  our  Governor,  and  lost  on  the  spotted  dog, 
they  say. 

There  was  a  sham  battle  of  the  troops,  too;  half  a  gill  to 
every  fifth  man,  and  fifty  pounds  for  the  cannon  on  the  hill, 
which  cost  Sir  William  a  pretty  penny,  our  Governor  refus 
ing  to  allow  for  the  powder  burned.  However,  it  was  a  fine 
pageant,  and  pleased  all;  and  I  was  sorry  when  the  last  car- 

95, 


CARDIGAN 

tridge  was  spent  and  the  brigade  band  played,  "  God  Save  the 
King." 

We  followed  Sir  William  to  the  pavilion,  dismounting 
there  to  ascend  the  stairs  and  pay  our  respects  to  the  Gov 
ernor  and  to  Lord  Dunmore. 

"  Come  with  me,  Michael,"  said  Sir  William,  wiping  his 
face  with  his  hanker  till  it  glistened;  and  I  followed  the 
Baronet  into  the  enclosure. 

Lord  Dunmore  was  tricked  out  like  a  painted  actor,  neither 
old  nor  young,  but  too  white  and  pink  and  without  any  red 
blood  in  him,  as  far  as  I  could  see.  lie  wore  a  wig — it  was 
said  he  possessed  twenty  and  valued  at  six  thousand  pounds — 
and  his  fingers,  which  I  could  see  through  the  lace  on  his 
cuffs,  were  like  white  bird's  claws  loaded  with  jewels. 

When  Lord  Dunmore  saw  Sir  William  he  fell  a-tapping 
his  snuff-box  and  bobbing  and  smiling,  nor  did  he  rise  until 
we  had  made  our  way  to  him. 

"  Lud !  Lud !"  he  said,  and  fell  a-simpering,  with  hands 
raised  in  feigned  amazement  at  the  magnificence  of  the  re 
view.  "  Lud !  Lud !  Sir  William !  A  gallant  fete !  A  brave 
defile !  Militia,  not  regulars,  you  say !  Vive  Dieu,  Sir  Will 
iam,  a  most  creditable  entraining!  Permettez — mes  compli 
ments  le  plus  distinguee !" 

"  My  aide-de-camp,  Lord  Dunmore,"  said  Sir  William, 
bluntly;  "your  Lordship  will  remember  Captain  Cardigan 
who  died  before  Quebec?  His  son,  my  Lord! — and  my  dear 
kinsman,  Michael  Cardigan,  cornet  in  the  Borderers." 

"  Strike  me!"  simpered  Lord  Dunmore.  "  Strike  me,  now, 
Sir  William!  He  has  his  father's  eyes — Vrai  Dieu!  Curse 
me,  if  he  has  not  his  father's  eyes,  Sir  William !" 

At  this  remarkable  discovery  I  bowed  and  said  it  was  an 
honour  to  be  otonsidered  like  my  father  in  any  particular. 

"  Burn  me!"  murmured  his  Lordship,  in  an  ecstasy  at  my 
natural  response.  "  Burn  me,  Sir  William,  what  a  wit  he 
has,  now!"  And  he  peeped  at  me,  squeezing  his  eyes  into 
two  weak  slits,  and  laid  his  snuff-box  against  his  nose.  Lord ! 
What  a  false  face  he  pulled  at  me ! 

Apparently  surfeited  with  admiration,  he  invited  Sir  Will 
iam  to  take  snuff  with  him,  then  turning  to  Governor  Tryon, 
who  had  just  come  into  the  stall,  he  fell  to  smirking  and  ex- 

M 


CARDIGAN 

claiming  and  vapouring  about  God  knows  what,  until  I,  weary 
and  cloyed,  glanced  around  me  at  the  crowd  on  the  seats 
above  us. 

There  were  a  hundred  pair  of  bright  eyes  fixed  on  us,  and 
without  vanity  I  perceived  a  few  to  meet  mine,  but  the  faces 
were  not  distinct,  and  I  found  it  disconcerting. 

Then  a  deep,  pleasant  voice  sounded  close  beside  me, 
and  looking  around,  I  saw  our  Governor  Tryon  smiling  at 
me. 

"  I  knew  your  father,"  he  said ;  "  it  was  a  privilege,  Mr. 
Cardigan,  and  one  I  take  advantage  of  to  address  the  son  of 
so  gallant  a  gentleman." 

I  replied  warmly  and  gratefully,  yet  with  military  defer 
ence,  and  I  saw  Sir  William  observing  me,  well  pleased  at  my 
bearing. 

"  In  these  times,"  said  the  Governor,  clasping  his  cloak 
over  his  epaulets,  "it  is  a  pleasure  to  meet  with  modest  loy 
alty  in  the  younger  generation.  Loyal  to  parent,  loyal  to 
King !  I  predict  we  shall  hear  from  you,  Mr.  Cardigan." 

"  Please  God,  sir,"  I  replied,  blushing  scarlet ;  for  into  my 
mind  crept  that  wavering  doubt  which,  since  Sir  W illiam  had 
talked  with  me,  haunted  me  like  a  shadow. 

The  Governor  passed  by  with  his  clanking  dragoons,  among 
them  the  young  jackanapes  who  had  presumed  to  sneer  at 
our  yeomanry,  and  we  delivered  a  pair  of  scornful  glances 
at  each  other  which  crossed  like  broadswords. 

And  now  my  Lord  Dunmore's  boudoir  on  wheels  drove  up, 
and  his  purring  Lordship  minced  off  in  the  midst  of  his  flame- 
coloured  Virginians,  for  all  the  world  like  a  white  cat  dancing 
through  hell  fire. 

The  ladies  were  rising,  tying  on  sun-masks,  standing  in 
rows  between  the  seats,  and  the  officers  loitered  and  whispered 
and  played  with  their  snuff-boxes,  while  the  silent  Mohawk 
chiefs  looked  on,  standing  like  statues  till  the  crowd  gave 
them  their  liberty. 

One  lady  there  was,  in  a  mask  and  silvery  cloak,  who  looked 
at  me  so  long  through  the  eye-holes  that  I  felt  my  heart 
begin  a-beating;  and  another,  too,  in  mask  and  rose  mantle, 
who  lifted  the  linen  a  trifle,  displaying  a  fresh,  sweet,  smiling 
mouth.  This  one  in  rose  turned  twice  to  look  at  me,  and  it 
Q  97 


CARDIGAN 

amused  me  to  feel  my  heart  go  a-bumping  at  my  ribs  so  loud, 
for  she  did  truly  resemble  Marie  Livingston. 

Sir  William  and  Colonel  Glaus  had  joined  Lord  Dunmore 
in  his  coach;  Sir  John  and  Colonel  Butler  attached  them 
selves  to  our  Governor  Tryon.  I,  abandoned,  rode  back  to 
the  Hall  with  a  company  of  Virginians  and  dragoons,  won 
dering  if  ever  I  might  acquire  such  horsemanship  as  the 
Southerners  displayed. 

Coming  to  the  Hall,  I  met  Sir  William,  whose  smiling  face 
grew  haggard  at  sight  of  me,  and  he  drew  me  apart,  asking 
of  news  from  Quider. 

"  He  is  not  yet  dead,  sir,"  I  replied,  my  heart  aching  for 
Sir  William. 

For  a  moment  he  stood  staring  at  the  ground,  then  bidding 
me  report  to  Mr.  Duncan  at  the  block-house,  walked  away  to 
disguise  his  anxious  visage  again  with  the  oldest  mask  in  the 
world — a  smile. 

That  night  Sir  William  provided  two  great  banquets  for 
our  guests,  one  at  the  court-house  in  Johnstown,  the  other  at 
Johnson  Hall. 

The  splendid  banquet  at  the  court-house  was  given  to  all 
the  visiting  officers  except  Lord  Dunmore,  Governor  Tryon, 
and  their  particular  aides.  To  it  were  invited  the  Virginians, 
the  New-Yorkers,  the  important  Mohawk,  Seneca,  and  Onon- 
daga  sachems,  and  chiefs  of  the  Long  House.  Also  were 
bidden  the  officers  of  our  Royal  Americans,  such  officers  of 
the  Border  House  as  had  come  with  Governor  Tryon,  and  all 
gentlemen  of  distinction  who  had  brought  their  ladies. 

Colonel  Claus  and  his  lady  presided  as  host  and  hostess, 
representing  Sir  William  and  Mistress  Molly,  and  our  bri 
gade  band  played  in  the  gallery  during  the  banquet,  and  later 
on  the  portico  of  the  court-house,  where  a  great  crowd  of 
people  had  collected  to  cheer. 

The  other  banquet  was  given  at  the  same  hour  in  our 
house,  to  honour  Lord  Dunmore  and  Governor  Tryon. 

There  were  gathered  in  the  hallway  and  on  the  stairs  a 
vast  company  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  when  I  came  down 
from  my  little  chamber  to  wait  on  Sir  William.  Here  was 
the  great  Earl  of  Dunmore  in  a  ring  of  fluttering  ladies, 
peering,  bobbing,  tapping  his  snuff-box,  preening  the  lace  on 

98 


"'SILVER  HEELS!'  i  STAMMERED" 


CARDIGAN 

his  cuffs — and  I  thought  he  resembled  one  of  those  irksome 
restless  birds  from  the  Canaries  in  a  painted  cage. 

There  was  our  Governor  Tryon  in  purple  silk  from  head  to 
foot,  with  the  broad  sash  and  star  on  his  breast,  leaning  over, 
hands  clasped  behind  his  back,  to  whisper  jest  or  flattery  to 
a  young  girl  who  tapped  at  him  with  her  fan.  There  was  my 
kinsman,  Sir  John  Johnson,  with  his  indifferent  eyes  and 
ungracious  carriage,  and  old  Colonel  Butler  watching  the, 
gay  company  as  hawks,  from  sheer  habit,  watch  peacocks, 
meaning  no  attack.  There  also  strolled  my  impudent  dra 
goon  lad  who  had  offended  at  the  pavilion,  and  I  will  not  deny 
he  appeared  to  be  an  elegant  and  handsome  officer,  possessing 
those  marked  characteristics  of  fashion  and  assurance  which 
one  observes  in  all  gentlemen  from  the  city  of  New  York. 

Making  my  way  carefully  amid  rustling  petticoats  and  a 
forest  of  painted  fans  all  waving  like  the  wings  of  a  swarm 
of  moths  drawn  by  the  candle-light,  I  passed  Mistress  Molly 
on  the  arm  of  Sir  William,  touching  my  lips  to  her  pretty 
fingers,  which  she  held  out  to  me  behind  her  back. 

Next  I  encountered  Mr.  Butler  and  honoured  him  with  a 
scowl,  which  displayed  my  country  breeding,  it  being  the 
fashion  among  quality  to  greet  one's  enemy  with  more  elabo 
rate  courtesy  than  one  accords  to  friends. 

People  passed  and  repassed  with  laughter  and  whisper, 
and  the  scented  wind  from  their  fans  swept  my  cheek. 

Suddenly  it  seemed  as  though  the  voice  of  Silver  Heels 
sounded  in  my  ears,  and  for  a  moment  I  stared  about  me, 
astonished  that  she  should  be  here.  But  I  could  not  find  her. 
Then  her  voice  sounded  again,  clear  as  a  pebbled  spring  in 
all  that  chatter,  and  turning,  I  saw  it  came  from  a  young  girl 
standing  behind  me.  She  was  very  delicate  and  pretty  in 
her  powder  and  patches,  truly  somewhat  pale  and  lacking  in 
plumpness,  but  with  a  pair  of  great  hazel  eyes  like  Silver 
Heels's,  and  the  child's  full  lips.  Certainly  she  had  Silver 
Heels's  voice,  and  her  trick  of  widening  her  eyes,  too,  for  now 
she  perceived  me,  and — 

"Why,  Micky!"  she  cried. 

"  Silver  Pleels !"  I  stammered,  striving  to  believe  my  eyes. 
What  miracle  of  miracles  had  set  her  to  grow  tall  and  turn 
into  a  woman  in  a  single  week  ? 

99 


CARDIGAN 

I  stared  almost  piteously  at  her,  trying  to  find  my  own 
familiar  comrade  in  this  whispering  shower  of  silk  and  rib 
bon,  this  delicate  stranger,  smiling  breathlessly  at  me  with 
sparkling  teeth  set  on  the  edge  of  her  painted  fan. 

In  her  triumph  she  laughed  that  laugh  of  silver  which 
sounded  ever  of  woodlands  and  birds,  the  same  laugh,  the 
same  gray  eyes,  and  the  same  satin  fingers  laid  on  my 
wrist. 

"  Silly,"  she  whispered,  "  I  told  you  so.  And  it  has  come 
true;  my  gown  is  silk,  my  stockings  silk,  my  shoes  are  Pad- 
dington's  make  and  silken  to  the  soles !" 

"  How  did  you  grow  ?"  I  gasped. 

"  Have  I  grown  ?  Oh,  my  gown  and  shoes  count,  too,  and 
my  hair  rolled  by  Betty  till  I  vowed  she  meant  to  scalp  me! 
See  my  egrettes !  Are  they  straight,  Micky  ?" 

Ere  I  could  attempt  to  compose  my  thoughts,  comes  minc 
ing  my  impudent  dragoon,  who  seemed  to  know  her,  for  he 
brought  her  a  ribbon  to  tie  above  her  elbow,  explaining  it 
was  a  new  conceit  from  New  York. 

"  It's  this  way,"  he  explained,  utterly  ignoring  my  pres 
ence;  "I  tie  this  bow  of  blue  above  your  elbow,  so! — with, 
your  gracious  consent.  Now  for  a  partner  to  lead  you  to 
the  table  I  seek  some  gentleman  and  tie  a  blue  bow  to  his 
sword-hilt." 

"  Pray  tie  it  to  Mr.  Cardigan's,"  said  Silver  Heels,  mis 
chievously.  "  I  have  much  to  say  to  him  for  his  peace  of 
mind." 

The  dragoon  and  I,  face  to  face,  regarded  each  other  with 
menacing  composure. 

"  To  deprive  you  of  such  an  honour,  sir,"  said  he,  coolly,  "  I 
protest  reduces  me  to  despair;  but  the  light  blue  bows  have 
already  been  awarded,  Mr.  Cardigan." 

Instinctively  I  glanced  at  his  own  sword-hilt,  and  there 
fluttered  a  light  blue  ribbon.  At  the  same  moment  I  per 
ceived  that  Silver  Heels  had  been  perfectly  aware  of  this. 

Mortified  as  I  was,  and  stinging  under  the  dragoon's  im 
pudence,  I  controlled  myself  sufficiently  to  congratulate  him 
and  courteously  deplore  my  own  ill  fortune,  without  a 
grimace,  though  it  stuck  in  my  throat  to  say  it. 

"Let  not  your  lady  hear  that!"  said  Silver  Heels,  with 

100 


CARDIGAN 

her  fan  hiding  her  lips.     "How  do  :you  know,  sir,   VhJ 
partner  fate  and  Mr.  Bevan  may  allot  you  1'' 

Mr.  Bevan  and  I  regarded  each  other  in  solemn  hostility. 

"  May  I  have  the  honour  of  attaching  this  ribbon  to  your 
hilt,  sir  ?"  he  asked,  stiffly. 

"You  may,  sir,"  said  I,  still  more  stiffly,  "if  it  is  neces 
sary." 

He  tied  a  red  bow-knot  to  my  hilt ;  we  bowed  to  each  other, 
then  with  a  smile  and  a  word  to  Silver  Heels  which  I  did  not 
catch,  he  saluted  us  again  and  strolled  off  with  his  nose  in 
the  air  and  his  hands  full  of  ribbons  of  every  hue — the  fop ! 

"  Who  is  that  pitiful  ass  ?"  I  said,  turning  to  Silver  Heels. 

"  Why,  Michael !"  she  protested,  reproachfully,  yet  smiling, 
too. 

"  Oh,  if  he's  one  of  your  friends,  I  ask  indulgence,"  said 
I,  mad  enough  to  pluck  the  blue  knot  from  her  arm. 

"  Truly,  Michael,"  she  sniffed,  "  you  are  still  very  young." 

She  seated  herself  by  the  big  clock;  I  sat  beside  her,  sul 
lenly,  and  for  a  time  I  peered  at  her  sideways.  Verily,  the 
impossible  had  overtaken  us;  she  appeared  to  be  fully  as 
tall  as  half  the  ladies  gathered  around  us ;  her  self-possession 
and  obvious  indifference  to  me  completed  my  growing  dis 
comfort.  I  looked  at  her  small,  silk-covered  toes  pushing  out 
under  her  petticoat. 

"  Is  the  dandelion  juice  on  them  yet  ?"  I  asked,  with  pite 
ous  playfulness. ' 

"  Don't  talk  like  that !"  she  said,  sharply,  drawing  her  feet 
in.  And  with  that  petulant  movement  the  playmate  I  had 
so  often  bullied,  slipped  away  from  me  forever,  leaving  in 
her  place  a  dainty  thing  of  airs  and  laces  to  flout  me,  whom  I 
knew  not,  but  whom  I  meant  to  be  avenged  on;  for  at  mo 
ments,  as  I  sat  there,  I  could  have  yelled  aloud  in  my  vexa 
tion. 

Lord!  how  they  all  ogled  her,  and  came  a-mincing,  gentle 
men  and  ladies,  old  and  young,  and  I  heard  whispers  around 
me  that  she  was  a  beauty  and  would  be  rich  one  day.  My 
Lord  Dunmore,  too,  came  a-dancing  pit-pat !  till  I  thought  to 
hear  his  bones  creak  inside  his  white  silk;  and  the  dragoon 
jackanapes  was  there,  having  tied  up  everything  with  his 
ribbons  save  his  own  long  ears,  and  it  infuriated  me  to  see 

101 


0  A.-HDIGAN 

him  staii 'ding;  guard  protector  <over  Silver  Heels,  with  jealous 
smiles  tor  'ail  who  approached. 

Now  what  the  devil  had  seized  all  these  gentlemen  to  set 
them  smirking  and  vapouring  over  Silver  Heels,  I  did  not 
know,  or  rather,  I  knew  perfectly  well,  because  it  was  as 
plain  as  a  Mohawk  moccasin  on  a  spotted  trail  that  Silver 
Heels  had  suddenly  become  a  beauty.  Even  I  could  see  that. 
Granted  her  bosom  lacked  somewhat  in  fulness,  granted  a 
childish  leanness  of  arm  and  neck,  granted  even  a  pallor 
which  adorned  her  not,  and  which,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  knew 
came  from  fright,  there  was  something  in  the  frail  moulding 
of  her  that  drew  eyes,  something  in  the  arm's  slim  contours 
that  touched  even  me. 

I  might  have  taken  a  pride  in  her,  had  not  all  these  bobbing 
pigeons  come  crowding  about  to  share  openly  my  uncon- 
fessed  admiration.  But  they  bowed  and  strutted  and  posed 
and  flattered,  pressing  closer  until  she  was  shut  from  my 
sight  by  a  circle  of  coat-skirts,  tilted  swords,  and  muscular 
calves  in  silken  stockings. 

Presently  our  fiddlers  and  bassoons  started  the  "  Huron  " ; 
there  was  a  flutter  to  find  ribbons  that  matched,  and  a  world 
of  bustle  and  laughter,  with  gentlemen  and  ladies  comparing 
colours  and  bowing  and  curtseying  without  regard  to  neigh 
bors7  toes  and  petticoats — the  tittering  popinjays ! 

Truly,  if  this  mode  of  choosing  one's  lady  prevailed  in 
New  York,  I  at  least  found  it  smacked  something  of  silli 
ness  and  French  frivolity. 

I  had  now  been  crowded  up  against  our  tall  clock  in  the 
hall,  and  stood  there  striving  to  get  a  glimpse  of  Silver  Heels, 
completely  forgetting  that  somewhere  in  the  crush  a  lady 
with  a  scarlet  ribbon  on  her  arm  might  be  waiting  for  me. 
And  doubtless  I  should  have  remained  there,  gnawing  my 
lip,  till  doomsday,  had  not  Silver  Heels  espied  me  and  come 
fluttering  through  the  crowd  with : 

"  Oh,  Micky !  Have  you  seen  your  lady  ?  Your  old  friend 
Marie  Livingston  !  But  she  is  wedded  now ;  she  is  that  pretty 
Mrs.  Hamilton  from  Saint  Sacrement.  Oh.  you  lucky  boy! 
All  the  officers  are  raving  over  her!  But  I  asked  her  if  she 
remembered  you,  and  she  said  she  didn't,  so  there !" 

"  Silver  Heels,"  I  began,  with  the  first  appealing  glance  I 

102 


CAKDIGAN 

had  ever  bestowed  on  a  woman;  "Silver  Heels,  I  want  to 
tell  you  something." 

I  do  not  believe  she  was  listening,  or  perhaps  the  chatter 
around  us  drowned  my  voice,  which  was  husky  and  over-fond, 
for  she  cried :  "  You  must  not  detain  me,  Michael.  Mr.  Bevan 
is  waiting  for  me." 

And  with  that  she  was  gone  into  the  whirl,  leaving  me 
high  and  dry  against  my  clock,  and  furious  over  I  knew  not 
what.  For  truly  I  myself  did  not  know  what  it  was  I  had 
been  about  to  say  to  Silver  Heels.  As  for  this  Mrs.  Hamilton, 
it  madded  me  to  hear  of  her.  I  had  long  forgotten  Marie 
Livingston — save  as  a  name  to  goad  Silver  Heels  withal. 

Mrs.  Hamilton,  forsooth !  What  the  foul  fiend  had  I  to  do 
with  another  man's  wife,  whether  Hamilton  or  Smith  or 
Jones  I  cared  not,  while  that  ape  of  a  New-Yorker  had  set 
himself  in  my  rightful  place  beside  Silver  Heels !  And  what 
stabbed  deepest  was  that  Silver  Heels  found  pleasure  in  his. 
foolish  company — ay,  plainly  preferred  him  to  me — the  un 
grateful  minx!  I  prayed  fervently  she  might  live  to  repent 
it.  I  pictured  her  remorse  when  she  came  to  her  senses.  And 
in  a  moment  more  I  had  slipped  into  one  of  my  waking 
dreams  wherein  justice  was  dealt  out  by  the  jugful  all  around, 
and  I  emerged  from  some  scenes  of  carnage,  calm,  trium 
phant,  gently  forgiving  Silver  Heels  the  accumulated  sins  of 
her  misspent  life. 

Sullenly  dreaming  there  under  the  tall  clock,  and  happening 
to  lift  my  eyes  towards  heaven  for  some  of  its  spare  ven 
geance,  I  perceived  on  the  stairs  that  same  lady  who  had  half 
raised  her  sun-mask  at  the  review — I  mean  the  one  in  the 
rose  mantle,  not  the  other  in  the  silvery  cloak,  whom  I  now 
knew  had  been  Silver  Heels. 

Down  the  stairs  rustled  my  lady  of  the  rose  mantle,  finger 
tips  playing  a  tattoo  over  the  mahogany  balustrade,  and  on 
her  lips  a  smile,  as  I  fancied,  though  later  I  came  to  know 
that  it  was  only  the  natural  expression  of  her  mouth.  Some 
thing  in  my  memory  stirred  at  that  smiling  face. 

Now  she  was  looking  straight  at  me,  with  that  delicate 
curve  of  her  lips  which  sets  men  thinking,  and  at  the  same 
moment  I  perceived  that  she  wore  my  colours.  Marie  Liv 
ingston!  I  should  never  have  known  her;  so  we  were  quits, 

103 


CARDIGAN 

the  affected  minx!  This  was  Mrs.  Hamilton! — this  bright- 
eyed  girl  with  her  smooth  rose-petal  skin  and  her  snowy  hand 
on  the  balustrade.  Could  I  be  mistaken  ?  Surely  she  wore 
my  colours!  I  glanced  at  the  knot  on  my  sword-hilt,  then 
pressed  through  the  throng  to  the  stairway.  Now  at  last  I 
could  pay  Silver  Heels  in  her  own  wampum,  and  I  meant  to 
do  it  under  her  very  nose. 

I  met  Mrs.  Hamilton  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  but  she  did 
not  appear  to  see  me.  Truly  she  was  a  miracle  of  innocence 
not  to  have  perceived  her  colours  on  my  hilt,  or  perhaps  she 
was  over-timid.  So  I  addressed  her  reassuringly  and  made 
her  a  bow  that  I  knew  must  be  impressive.  However,  I  found 
her  less  confused  than  I,  for  she  insisted  on  matching  ribbons 
very  carefully,  which  hurt  my  pride  somewhat.  But  when  she 
could  no  longer  doubt  that  our  ribbons  matched,  she  made  me 
a  whimsical  reverence,  and  took  my  arm  with  a  smile,  and  a 
cool :  "  Oh,  I  faintly  recall  you  now,  Mr.  Cardigan.  How 
you  have  grown !" 

Out  into  the  wilderness  of  silver  and  candle-light  we 
passed,  fiddle  and  bassoon  a-playing  with  might  and  main, 
and  we  stood  behind  our  chairs  while  my  Lord  Dunmore 
chattered  a  blessing,  then  seated  ourselves  amid  a  gale  of 
whispers. 

Through  the  flare  of  the  candles  I  saw  Brant  and  Sir  John 
Johnson  near  us,  and  also  that  filthy  Indian,  Red  Jacket,  both 
hands  already  in  a  dish  of  jelly,  a-gobbling  and  grunting  to 
himself,  which  sent  Lord  Dunmore  into  peals  of  shrill  laugh 
ter,  though  Sir  William  took  no  notice.  Presently  I  per 
ceived  Silver  Heels  arid  Mr.  Bevan,  nearly  opposite  to  us, 
and  strove  to  catch  her  eye.  But  Silver  Heels  took  small 
notice  of  me;  her  cheeks  had  gone  red  with  her  first  sip  of 
wine,  and  she  sat  there  rosy  and  silent,  head  a  little  lowered, 
while  that  insufferable  coxcomb  whispered  into  her  ear,  and 
smirked,  and  played  with  his  wine-glass  till  the  very  sight 
of  the  man  sickened  me. 

Stung  to  the  quick  by  her  indifference  to  my  presence, 
smarting  in  my  fancied  isolation,  I  resolved  to  show  her  that 
I  cared  not  a  whit  for  her  or  her  dragoon.  So  I  loosened  my 
tongue  and  set  it  wagging  so  smartly  that  I  think  I  aston 
ished  Mrs.  Hamilton,  who  had  been  observing  Mr.  Bevan 

104 


CARDIGAN 

with  her  fixed  smile.  At  any  rate,  she  gave  me  a  long,  pleas 
ant,  stare,  and  presently  her  fixed  smile  became  very  sweet 
and  pretty,  although  I  thought  a  trifle  mocking. 

"  Is  it  not  amusing  ?"  she  said,  coolly ;  "  here  you  sit  with 
me,  when  you  would  give  your  tow-head  to  be  prattling  into 
Mistress  Warren's  ears;  and  here  sit  I  at  twiddle-thumbs, 
devising  vengeance  on  Mr.  Bevan,  who  belongs  to  me !" 

Perplexed  and  disconcerted,  I  found  no  words  to  answer 
such  an  amazing  sally.  It  shamed  me,  too.  Perhaps  my 
countenance  had  betrayed  me,  but  her  confession  concerning 
Mr.  Bevan  was  a  bold  one,  and  not  at  all  to  my  taste. 

"  I  thought  you  had  a  husband,"  said  I,  with  boyish  blunt- 
ness. 

She  coloured  up  like  fire  for  a  moment,  and  I  was  sorry  I 
spoke,  but  I  had  my  pity  for  my  pains,  for  the  next  instant 
she  was  laughing  at  me  as  though  I  were  a  ninny,  and  I 
could  discover  no  reason  for  her  mirth. 

"  Please  tell  me  your  Christian  name,"  she  said,  sweetly. 
"  I  really  do  desire  to  recall  it." 

"  My  name  is  Michael,"  said  I,  suspiciously. 

"  Was  it  not  Saint  Michael  who  so  soundly  spanked  the 
devil  ?"  she  asked,  with  her  innocent  smile.  "  Truly,  Mr. 
Cardigan,  you  were  well  named  to  chastise  the  wicked  with 
such  sturdy  innocence !" 

I  fumed  inwardly,  for  I  had  no  mind  to  be  considered  a 
gaby  among  women. 

"  I  am  perfectly  aware,  madam,  that  it  is  the  fashion  for 
charming  women  to  turn  boys'  heads,"  said  I,  "  and  I  wish 
you  might  turn  Mr.  Sevan's  head  till  you  twisted  it  off  his 
neck!" 

"  I'd  rather  twist  yours,"  she  said,  looking  up  from  her 
plate  of  broiled  troutlings. 

"  Twist  it  off  ?"  I  asked,  curiously. 

"  I — I  don't  know.    Look  at  me,  Mr.  Cardigan." 

I  met  her  pretty  eyes. 

"No,  not  quite  off,"  she  said,  thoughtfully.  "You  are  a 
nice  boy,  but  not  very  bright;  If  you  were  you  would  pay 
me  compliments  instead  of  admonition.  Perhaps  you  will 
after  the  Madeira.  Perhaps  you  will  even  make  love  to  me." 

"  I  will  do  it  before  the  Madeira,"  said  I.  "  You  are  cer- 

105 


CAKDIGAN 

tainly  the  prettiest  woman  in  Johnson  Hall  to-night,  and  if 
you've  a  mind  for  vengeance  on  your  faithless  dragoon  yon 
der,  pray  take  me  for  the  instrument,  Mrs.  Hamilton." 

"  Hush !"  she  said,  with  a  startled  smile.  "  I  may  take  you 
at  your  word." 

"  I  am  taking  you  at  yours,"  said  I,  recklessly,  and  loud 
enough  for  Silver  Heels  to  hear. 

In  the  dull  din  of  voices  around  us  I  heard  Silver  Heels's 
laugh,  but  the  laugh  was  strained,  and  I  knew  she  was  look 
ing  at  me  and  listening. 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  said  Mrs.  Hamilton,  red 
dening,  "  but  I  know  you  to  be  a  somewhat  indiscreet  young 
man  who  handles  a  woman  as  he  would  a  club  to  beat  his 
rival  to  the  earth  withal." 

"  I  mean,"  said  I,  in  a  low  voice,  "  to  make  love  to  you  and 
so  serve  us  both.  Look  at  me,  Mrs.  Hamilton." 

"  I  will  not,"  she  said,  between  her  teeth. 

"  Tell  me,"  I  pleaded,  "  what  is  your  Christian  name.  I  do 
really  wish  to  know,  Mrs.  Hamilton." 

Spite  of  the  angry  red  in  her  cheeks  she  laughed  outright, 
glanced  sideways  at  me,  and  laughed  again,  so  blithely  that 
I  thought  I  had  truly  never  seen  such  careless  ripened  healthy 
beauty  in  any  woman. 

"  My  name  is  Marie  Hamilton,  of  Saint  Sacrement,  please 
you,  kind  sir,"  she  lisped,  with  an  affected  simper  which  set 
us  both  a-laughing  again. 

"  If  you  ever  had  your  heart  stormed  you  had  best  prepare 
for  no  quarter  now !"  I  said,  coolly. 

"  Insolent !"  she  murmured,  covering  her  bright  cheeks 
with  her  hands,  and  giving  me  a  glance  in  which  amusement, 
contempt,  curiosity,  and  invitation  were  not  inharmoniously 
blended. 

The  Madeira  had  now  turned  my  blood  to  little  rivers  of 
fire,  I  being  but  lately  enfranchised  from  the  children's  pew 
ters  and  small-beer;  but  yet  I  am  so  made  that  never  then 
nor  since  have  the  delicate  vapours  of  wines  stifled  such  wits 
as  I  possess.  It  is  my  conscience  only  that  wine  dulls. 

So  amid  the  low  tumult,  the  breezy  gush  of  whispers,  the 
laughter,  and  the  crystal  tinkle  of  silver  and  glass,  I  made 
indiscreet,  clear-headed  love  to  Mistress  Marie  Hamilton,  re- 

106 


CARDIGAN 

treating  under  her  cruel  satire,  rallying  in  the  bright  battery 
of  her  eyes,  charging  the  citadel  of  her  heart  with  that  in 
sincere  and  gay  abandon  which  harasses,  disconcerts,  and 
piques  a  woman  who  understands  better  how  to  repel  true 
passion. 

"  In  what  school  have  you  been  taught  to  make  love,  sir  ?" 
she  said,  at  last,  breathless,  amused,  yet  exasperated. 

"  In  the  school  of  necessity,  madam,"  I  replied. 

"  I  pray  you  teach  something  of  your  art  to  Mr.  Bevan," 
said  she,  spitefully,  over  her  fan's  silk  edge. 

"  I  am  teaching  him  now,"  said  I. 

It  was  true.  The  dragoon  was  staring  at  Mrs.  Hamilton  in 
undisguised  displeasure.  As  for  Silver  Heels,  she  observed 
us  with  a  scornful  amazement  which  roused  all  the  cruelty 
in  me,  though  I  knew  I  was  losing  her  innocent  belief  in  me 
and  tearing  my  respectability  to  shreds  under  her  clear  gray 
eyes. 

For  a  bud  from  Mrs.  Hamilton's  caushet  I  threw  away  the 
pure  faith  of  my  little  comrade;  for  a  touch  of  her  hand  I 
blighted  her  trust ;  and  laughed  as  I  did  it. 

Only  once  was  Mrs.  Hamilton  off  her  guard,  when  my 
earnest  acting  had  suddenly  become  real  to  me — a  danger,  I 
have  since  found,  that  no  actors  are  too  clever  to  escape 
sometimes. 

"  If  for  one  moment  you  could  be  in  earnest,"  she  ventured, 
with  a  smile. 

I  was  on  guard  again  before  she  finished,  and  she  saw  it, 
but  was  too  wise  to  betray  regret  or  anger  for  her  mistake. 

"Pray,  cease,"  she  said;  "you  weary  me,  Mr.  Cardigan. 
The  coldest  among  us  reflect  fire,  even  though  it  be  as  false 
as  the  dead  fires  of  the  moon.  You  are  prettily  revenged ;  let 
us  have  peace." 

Now  the  healths  flew  thick  and  fast  from  Sir  William  and 
Lord  Dunmore,  the  titled  toast-masters,  and  we  drank  his 
Majesty  George  the  Third  in  bumpers  which  set  the  Indians 
a-howling  like  timber  wolves  at  Candlemas. 

Indeed,  our  forest  of  lights  might  have  served  for  the 
Romish  feast  itself. 

Toast  followed  toast  in  a  tempest  of  cheers,  through  which 
the  yelps  of  the  Indians  sounded  faintly.  I  saw  Brant  take 

107 


CARDIGAN 

a  silver  plate  and  a  solid  candle-stick  from  under  Red 
Jacket's  shirt,  while  that  great  orator,  very  drunk,  sat  a-hack- 
ing  the  cloth  with  a  table-knife.  I  saw  my  Lord  Dumnore,  all 
in  white  silk  and  blazing  with  stars,  rise  to  pledge  the  ladies, 
and  stand  swaying  and  leering  and  gumming  his  glass  till  it 
upset  on  his  chin,  and  the  jewels  in  his  lace  front  dripped 
wine. 

Mistress  Molly  we  pledged  with  a  shout,  and  she  returned 
our  courtesy  with  gentle  gravity,  but  her  eyes  were  for  Sir 
William  alone. 

Then  Lord  Dunmore  gave : 

"Our  lovely  heiress,  Mistress  Warren!"  ending  in  a  hic 
cough,  and  poor  Silver  Heels,  pale  as  a  white  blossom,  half 
rose  from  her  seat  as  though  to  fly  to  Mistress  Molly. 

Red  Jacket  was  on  his  feet  now,  slavering  and  mouthing 
and  hacking  at  the  air,  and  Brant  and  I  dragged  him  out 
into  the  garden  where  his  squaw  took  charge,  leading  him 
lurching  and  howling  down  the  hill.  Before  I  returned,  the 
ladies  were  in  the  hallway  and  the  card-room,  the  gentlemen 
following  in  groups  from  the  table,  some  shamefully  unsteady 
of  leg,  and  feebly  scattering  snuff  in  amiable  invitation  to 
their  neighbours. 

But  Sir  William  had  disappeared,  and  I  hunted  vainly  for 
him  until  I  encountered  Mrs.  Hamilton,  who  directed  me  to 
the  library,  whither,  she  averred,  Sir  William,  Governor 
Try  on,  and  Lord  Dunmore  had  retired. 

"  State  secrets,  Master  Michael,"  she  added,  saucily.  "  You 
had  best  find  Mr.  Bevan  and  start  those  same  lessons  we  have 
discussed." 

"  Let  me  instruct  him  by  proxy,"  said  I,  drawing  her  under 
the  stairs,  and  ere  she  could  protest  or  escape,  I  kissed  her 
lips  three  separate  times. 

She  was  in  tears  in  an  instant,  which  I  had  not  counted 
on,  and  it  needed  my  most  earnest  acting  to  subdue  her  in 
dignation. 

I  had  my  arm  around  her,  and  my  coat  was  all  powder  and 
rouge,  when  something  made  me  look  around.  There  was 
Silver  Heels  going  towards  the  pantry  with  Betty,  doubtless 
to  pouch  some  sweets  for  her  black  nurse.  Her  head  was 
steadily  lowered,  her  lashes  rested  on  her  cheeks,  but  face  and 

108 


CARDIGAN 

neck  and  bosom  were  glowing  in  a  deep  colour,  and  I  knew  she 
had  perceived  us,  and  that  she  despised  us  with  all  the 
strength  of  her  innocent  soul. 

Stunned  with  the  conviction  that  I  had  gone  too  far,  I 
made  out  to  play  my  miserable  farce  to  an  end  and  led  Mrs. 
Hamilton  out  where  Mr.  Bevan  could  pounce  upon  her,  which 
he  did  with  an  insolence  that  I  had  little  spirit  to  notice  or 
resent. 

Then  I  hastened  to  the  pantry  where  Silver  Heels  stood 
before  the  rifled  dishes^  hands  to  her  face,  and  black  Betty 
a-petting  her.  But  at  sight  of  me  she  turned  scarlet  and 
shrank  back,  nor  would  she  listen  to  one  word. 

"What  yoh  done  to  mah  li'l  Miss  Honey-bee?"  exclaimed 
Betty,  wrathfully,  shaking  her  turban  till  the  rings  in  her 
big  ears  jingled  like  sledge-bells  in  December.  "  I  done 
'spec'  yoh,  Mars  Ca'digan,  suh!  Yaas,  I  'spec'  yoh  is  lak  all 
de  young  gemmen !" 

Then  the  old  witch  began  a-crooning  over  Silver  Heels 
with  deadly  glances  at  me : 

"  Doan  yoh  cyah,  li'l  Miss  Honey-bee,  doan  yoh  mind 
nuff'n!  Huh!  Had  mah  s'picioiis  'bout  dat  young  Mars 
Ca'digan.  Doan  yoh  mind  him  no  moh'n  a  blue-tail  fly !" 

"  Very  well,"  said  I,  angrily,  "  you  can  do  as  you  choose, 
and  think  what  you  like.  As  for  your  fool  of  a  dragoon,  Mrs. 
Hamilton  will  settle  him,  and  if  she  doesn't  I  will." 

My  foolish  outburst  seemed  to  rouse  a  panther  in  Silver 
Heels,  and  for  a  moment  I  believed  she  meant  to  strike  me. 
But  the  storm  swept  over,  leaving  her  with  limbs  a-quiver 
and  eyes  wet. 

"  You  have  spoiled  my  first  pleasure,"  she  said,  in  a  low, 
trembling  voice.  "You  have  conducted  like  a  clown  and  a 
libertine  where  all  beheld  you  making  shameful  love  to  a 
wedded  woman!  Oh,  Betty,  Betty,  send  him  away!"  she 
sobbed,  burying  her  head  in  the  black  woman's  breast. 

"  Silver  Heels,"  I  said,  choking,  "  can  you  not  understand 
that  it  is  I  who  wish  to  wed  you  ?" 

Again  the  panther  blazed  in  her  gray  eyes,  but  her  lips 
were  bloodless  as  she  gasped :  "  Oh,  the  insult !  Betty — do 
you  hear?  He  would  marry  me  out  of  pity!  That  is  twice 
he  has  said  it !" 

109 


CARDIGAN 

u  I  said  it  before  because  I  would  not  have  you  marry  Mr. 
Butler,"  said  I,  wincing  at  her  scorn.  "  But  I  say  it  now 
because — because — I  love  you,  Silver  Heels." 

All  her  horror  of  me  was  in  her  eyes.  I  saw  it  and  set  my 
teeth  hard,  hopeless  now  forever,  even  of  her  careless  affec 
tion. 

And  so  I  left  her  there,  with  Betty's  arms  around  her,  and 
the  hot  scorn  in  her  eyes.  But  as  I  went  away,  chilled  with 
self-contempt  and  mortification,  heedless,  utterly  careless 
what  I  did  to  further  degrade  myself  ^n  her  eyes,  came  black 
Betty  a-waddling  to  pluck  me  by  the  sleeve  and  whisper : 

"  Doan  yoh  go  to  wed  wif  nobody,  Mars  Ca'digan,  suh ! 
Doan  yoh  go  foh  to  co't  nobody.  Mali  li'l  chile — mah  li'l 
Miss  Honey-bee  ain't  done  growed  up  yet,  suh.  Bime-by 
she'll  know  moh'n  she  'specs  'bout  gemmeiis,  suh." 

But  my  evil  nature  was  uppermost,  and  I  laughed  and 
bade  Betty  mind  her  own  affairs,  leaving  her  there  grumbling 
and  mumbling  about  "  fool  boys "  and  "  li'l  fool  Honey 
bees,"  till  the  clatter  and  din  from  the  card-room  shut  her 
voice  from  my  ears. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

WHEN  I  came  to  the  library  the  door  stood  partly  open, 
and  I  could  see  a  party  of  gentlemen  lounging  within, 
and  somewhat  boisterous  over  their  wine  and  filberts;  so 
thinking  no  harm  to  enter,  I  walked  in  and  sat  down  on  the 
arm  of  a  leather  chair  by  the  window. 

Nobody  had  observed  me,  however,  and  I  was  on  the  point 
of  respectfully  making  known  my  presence  to  Sir  William, 
when  I  saw  Walter  Butler  rise  and  shut  the  door,  taking  the 
additional  precaution  to  lock  it.  Turning  to  rejoin  the  com 
pany  around  the  table,  his  dark  golden  eyes  fell  upon  me,  and 
he  stood  still,  one  hand  tightening  on  the  back  of  his  chair. 

"  Well  ?"  inquired  Sir  William,  testily,  looking  up  at  Mr. 
Butler.  "  When  you  are  seated,  sir,  I  will  continue,  unless  I 
weary  the  company." 

"  If  Mr.  Cardigan  has  been  here  all  this  time,  I,  for  one, 
was  not  aware  of  it,"  observed  Mr.  Butler,  coldly,  never  tak 
ing  his  unblinking  eyes  off  me. 

I  began  to  explain  to  Sir  William  that  I  had  but  that 
moment  came  in,  when  he  interrupted  querulously,  and  mo 
tioned  Mr.  Butler  to  be  seated. 

"  Tush !  tush !  Let  be,  let  be,  Captain  Butler !  My  young 
kinsman  has  my  confidence,  and  it  is  time  he  should  know 
something  of  what  passes  in  his  own  country." 

"  At  sixteen,"  observed  my  Lord  Dunmore,  with  a  maudlin 
chuckle,  "  I  knew  a  thing  or  two,  I'll  warrant  you — curse  rne 
if  I  didn't,  Sir  William !" 

Sir  John  Johnson  regarded  me  without  interest;  Colonel 
Glaus  never  even  troubled  to  give  me  a  glance,  but  I  saw  the 
hawk's  eyes  of  Walter  Butler  watching  me  steadily. 

"  To  resume,"  began  Sir  William,  but  Lord  Dunmore  broke 
out: 

"  At  sixteen  I  had  outlived  you  all — pierce  me  if  I  hadn't, 

111 


CARDIGAN 

now,  Sir  William !  Scratch  me  raw !  if  I  hadn't  put  a  finger 
in  the  world's  pudding,  a-stirring  the  plums  at  sixteen,  by 
God!" 

"Doubtless,  my  Lord,"  said  Sir  William,  dryly.  "And 
now,  gentlemen,  concerning  our  show  of  force  here,  I  have 
only  to  say — and  I  say  it  with  all  respect  and  submission  to 
Governor  Tryon — that  I  do  not  believe  it  will  produce  that 
salutary  effect  on  the  discontented  in  New  York  and  Boston 
which  Governor  Tryon  expects." 

"Gad!  I  do  expect  it!"  said  Tryon,  briskly.  "Look  you, 
Sir  William,  you  and  your  militia  dominate  the  county,  arid 
these  rascals  must  be  brought  to  understand  it.  Trust  me, 
messires,  the  damned  Yankees  will  know  of  this  militia  dis 
play  before  the  post  rides  into  Boston !" 

"  Add  our  Mohawks  to  the  militia,"  observed  Walter  But 
ler,  in  a  colourless  voice. 

Sir  William's  jaw  was  set  hard,  but  he  said  nothing. 

"  Add  the  whole  Six  Nations,"  suggested  Lord  Dunmore, 
leering  at  Sir  William ;  "  come,  now !  curse  me  blind !  but  we 
shall  have  the.  whole  Six  Nations,  and  that  filthy  little  Red 
Jacket  to  boot." 

"My  Lord,"  replied  Sir  William,  "if  it  lay  with  your 
Lordship  you  would  have  Red  Jacket  against  you." 

This  blunt  rebuke  almost  sobered  Lord  Dunmore  for  a 
moment,  and  he  asked  Sir  William  what  he  meant. 

"  I  mean,"  said  the  Baronet,  "  that  you  mocked  this  power 
ful  chief,  Red  Jacket,  at  my  table  to-night,  and  he  knew  it. 
That  is  not  the  way  to  gain  allies,  my  Lord." 

"  The  drunken,  guzzling  son  of  a  slut !"  bawled  Lord  Dun- 
more,  "  d'ye  think  I  care  what  the  bandy-legged  little  beast 
thinks?" 

"  I  only  know,"  replied  Sir  William,  curtly,  "  that  if  your 
Lordship  has  so  conducted  in  Virginia,  the  King  cannot  look 
for  any  Indian  support  in  that  colony." 

"Oh,  choke  me,  Sir  William,  but  that's  too  bad  now! — 
pinch  me  blue  if  it  isn't !"  protested  Lord  Dunmore  in  a  pet. 
Then  a  subtle  smirk  settled  on  his  waxen  cast  of  a  face  and 
he  winked  his  weak  eyes  at  Walter  Butler,  a  proceeding  ob 
served  by  me  and  by  Sir  William. 

Not  for  a  moment  now  did  T  doubt  that  Lord  Dunmore 

112 


CAKDIGAN 

had  set  Colonel  Cresap  to  drive  the  Cayugas  into  a  hatred 
for  the  colonies,  nor  did  I  doubt  but  that  Walter  Butler  knew 
of  this  plan,  perhaps  had  even  connived  at  it. 

Sir  William,  too,  had  come  to  some  quick  conclusion,  for 
I  saw  the  crease  deepen  around  his  jaws,  and  his  steady  eyes 
strike  fire.  But  he  said  nothing  to  interrupt  Lord  Dunmore, 
who  had  now  launched  into  a  gust  of  incoherent  words  and 
protestations  and  hiccoughs,  to  which  all  listened  sneeringly 
until  his  voice  ended  with  a  hollow  buzz  inside  his  wine-glass. 

There  came  a  silence,  broken  by  the  clear  sarcastic  tones 
of  Sir  William. 

"  I  beg  permission  to  submit  to  Governor  Tryon  the  opin 
ion  of  a  country  Baronet — for  what  that  opinion  may  be 
worth." 

"  With  pleasure,"  said  Governor  Tryon,  cordially,  looking 
up  from  the  plate  of  nuts  he  was  picking. 

"  And  this  is  my  opinion,"  continued  Sir  William,  "  that, 
firstly,  the  disaffected  classes  in  Boston  and  New  York  will 
not  care  a  fig  for  our  conference  here,  nor  for  our  show  of 
militia;  that,  secondly,  if  they  should  once  entertain  a  sus 
picion  that  England,  in  the  event  of  war,  proposes  to  employ 
savages  as  allies  to  subdue  rebellion,  we  would  have  to-mor 
row  the  thirteen  colonies  swarming  like  thirteen  hives  to 
sting  us  all  to  death — ay — and  there  would  not  be  an  Indian 
left  twixt  here  and  the  Ohio!" 

"  What  would  become  of  them  ?"  piped  up  Lord  Dunmore, 
so  innocently  that  I  saw  Governor  Tryon  pass  his  hand  over 
his  mouth  to  conceal  a  smile.  But  Walter  Butler's  passion 
less  voice  was  sounding  now,  and  I  saw  Sir  William  turn  his 
head  to  lose  no  gesture  or  shade  of  meaning. 

"  It  is  come  to  the  point  where  either  the  rebels  are  to 
win  over  the  Indians,  or  where  we  must  take  measures  to 
secure  their  services.  I  am  not  in  a  position  to  inform  you, 
gentlemen,  as  to  the  actual  existing  conditions  in  the  Indian 
Department.  That,  Sir  William  can  do  better  than  any  one 
in  America.  Therefore,  I  beg  Sir  William  to  kindly  make  it 
clear  to  us  what  chances  we  have  to  win  the  support  of  the 
Six  Nations — in  the  event  of  a  rebel  rising  against  the  King's 
authority." 

The  tangled  knot  was  cut,  the  cat  had  sprung  from  the  bag. 
H  113 


CAKDIGAN 

Yet  nobody  by  glance  or  word  or  gesture  appeared  to  be 
aware  of  it. 

Sir  William's  manner  was  perfectly  composed,  though  that 
deep  crease  binding  his  chin  deepened,  and  his  brows  bent  in 
towards  his  nose  as  he  rested  his  chin  on  his  hand  and  spoke, 
eyes  fixed  on  his  wine-glass : 

"  Captain  Butler  believes  that  it  has  come  to  this :  that 
either  those  in  authority  or  the  disaffected  must  seek  allies 
among  these  savage  hordes  which  hang  like  thunder-clouds 
along  our  frontiers.  Gentlemen,  I  am  not  of  that  opinion. 
I  have  said  openly,  and  I  care  not  ,who  knows  it,  that  if  war 
must  come  between  England  and  these  colonies,  let  it  be  a 
white  man's  war;  in  mercy,  let  it  be  a  war  between  two  civ 
ilized  peoples,  and  not  a  butchery  of  demons ! 

"  I  do  believe — and  I  say  so  solemnly  and  before  God — 
that  it  is  possible  to  so  conduct  that  these  savages  will  remain 
neutral  if  war  must  come.  Ay,  more!  I  will  answer  for 
them!" 

He  lifted  his  eyes  and  looked  straight  at  Lord  Dunmore, 
raising  his  voice  slightly,  but  betraying  no  passion. 

"  And,  gentlemen,  as  I  am  his  Majesty's  intendant  of  Ind 
ian  affairs  in  North  America,  I  shall  now  do  all  that  I  can 
to  pacify  my  wards,  to  keep  them  calm  and  orderly  in  the 
event  of  a  war  which  I,  for  one,  regard  with  horror.  Were  I 
to  do  otherwise,  I  must  account  to  my  King  for  a  trust  be 
trayed,  and  I  must  answer  also  to  Him  whom  King  and  sub 
ject  alike  account  to." 

On  Walter  Butler's  lips  a  sneer  twitched;  my  Lord  Dun- 
more  wiped  his  bleared  eyes  with  a  rag  of  lace  and  stared  at 
everybody  with  drunken  gravity. 

"  I  know  not,"  said  Sir  William,  slowly,  "  what  true  loyalty 
may  be  if  it  be  not  to  save  the  honour  of  our  King,  and  re 
buke  those  who  seek  to  tarnish  it.  And  if  there  are  now  those 
among  his  counsellors  or  deputies  who  urge  him  to  seek  these 
savages  as  allies,  I  say  it  is.  a  monstrous  thing  and  an  in 
spiration  from  hell  itself." 

He  swung  on  his  elbow  and  fixed  his  eyes  on  Walter  Butler. 

"You,  sir,  know  something  of  border  war.  How  then  can 
you  propose  to  let  loose  these  Indians  on  the  people  of  our 
colonies  ?" 

114 


CAKDIGAN 

"  Lest  they  let  loose  these  same  savages  on  us,"  replied  Mr. 
Butler,  calmly. 

Sir  William  frowned. 

"  You  do  not  know  the  colonists,  Mr.  Butler,"  he  said. 
"  What  marvel  then  that  my  Lord  North  should  misunder 
stand  them,  and  think  to  buy  their  loyalty  with  tuppence 
worth  o'  tea  ?" 

"  Come,  come,  Sir  William !'  cried  Governor  Tryon,  laugh 
ing,  and  plainly  anxious  to  break  the  tension  ere  sharp  words 
flew.  "  Did  I  not  know  you  to  the  bone,  sir,  I  should  deem 
it  my  duty  to  catechise  you  concerning  the  six  articles  of 
loyalty!" 

"  I,  too,  i'  faith !"  squeaked  Lord  Dunmore.  "  Skewer  me ! 
Sir  William,  but  you  talk  like  a  Boston  preacher — ay — that 
you  do,  and — 

"  Have  done,  sir !"  cut  in  Sir  William,  with  such  bitter 
contempt  that  the  faces  of  all  present  sobered  quickly.  Even 
Governor  Tryon  glanced  uneasily  at  Lord  Dunmore  to  see 
how  he  might  swallow  such  a  pill,  but  that  nobleman  only 
blinked  stupidly  and  sucked  his  thin  lips,  too  drunk  to 
understand  how  like  a  lackey  he  had  been  silenced. 

Sir  John  Johnson  and  Colonel  Claus,  deputies  to  Sir 
William  in  the  Indian  Department,  exchanged  puzzled 
glances.  But  I  noticed  that  Mr.  Butler  never  took  his  eyes 
from  Sir  William's  darkening  visage. 

"  There  is  one  more  matter,"  said  the  Baronet,  "  that  I  may 
be  pardoned  for  introducing  here  amid  all  the  perplexities  of 
the  times;  but  it  is  a  matter  touching  on  my  own  steward 
ship,  and  as  that  concerns  my  King,  I  deem  it  necessary  to 
broach  it." 

He  turned  again  deliberately  on  Lord  Dunmore. 

"  It  has  come  to  my  knowledge  that  certain  unauthorized 
people  are  tampering  with  a  distant  tribe  of  my  Cayuga  Ind 
ians.  I  know  not,  nor  do  I  care,  what  the  motives  of  these 
men  may  be,  but  I  protest  against  it,  and  I  shall  do  all  in 
my  power — without  infringing  on  the  rights  or  laws  of  a 
sister  colony — to  protect  my  Cayugas  from  unlawful  aggres 
sion!" 

"  Damme !"  gurgled  Lord  Dunmore,  passing  his  jewelled 
hand  over  his  befuddled  head.  "  Damme,  Sir  William,  d'ye 

115 


CARDIGAN 

mean  to  accuse  me  ?  Curse  me !  Skewer  me !  Claw  me  raw ! 
but  it  is  not  fair,"  he  snivelled.  "  No,  it  is  not  fair !  Take 
your  hands  off  my  sleeve  and  be  done  a-twitching  it,  Captain 
Butler!  Damme!  I  never  set  Cresap  on.  Will  ye  have 
done  a-pinching  my  arm,  Captain  Butler  ?" 

The  ghastly  humour  of  the  exposure,  the  ludicrous  self-con 
viction  of  his  tipsy  Lordship — for  nobody  had  mentioned 
Cresap — the  startling  disclosure,  too,  of  Walter  Butler's  in 
terest  in  the  plot — for  that  it  was  a  plot  no  longer  could  any 
body  doubt — cast  a  gloom  over  the  company. 

Every  man  _  present  understood  what  Cresap's  aggression 
meant;  no  man  there  dared  acknowledge  a  desire  for  Cre 
sap's  success. 

Then  Sir  William's  sarcastic  voice  pierced  the  silence. 

"  I  trust  your  Lordship  would  not  believe  that  any  gentle 
man  present  could  harbour  suspicions  of  a  foul  conspiracy 
between  your  Lordship  and  Captain  Butler,  to  incite  my 
Cayugas  to  attack  white  men !" 

Walter  Butler's  slow  eye  rested  on  Lord  Dunmore,  on  Sir 
William,  and  then  on  me.  But  his  bloodless  visage  never 
changed. 

"  Gentlemen,  gentlemen,  let  us  have  harmony  here  at  any 
cost,"  protested  Governor  Tryon,  half  in  jest,  half  in  earnest. 
"  God  knows  _  I  have  discord  enough  in  New  York  town 
without  seeking  it  among  the  loyalists  of  this  county.  No 
body  believes  that  my  Lord  Dunmore  is  seeking  trouble  with 
your  tame  Indians,  Sir  William.  If  this  fellow  Cresap,  who 
is  a  notorious  malcontent,  too,  be  imposing  on  the  Cayugas, 
I  doubt  not  that  my  Lord  Dunmore  will  recall  him  and  deal 
with  him  severely." 

"  No,  I  won't !  Claw  my  vitals  if  I  do !"  snapped  his  Lord 
ship,  in  the  drunken  sulks,  and  straightway  fell  a-squabbling 
with  Walter  Butler,  who  had  again  laid  a  hand  on  his  arm. 

For  Captain  Butler  knew  his  treachery  had  been  dis 
covered,  and  his  shameless  impudence  in  openly  attempting 
to  muzzle  his  noble  partner  in  conspiracy  passed  all  bounds 
of  decency. 

I  saw  the  angry  light  glimmer  in  Sir  William's  eyes,  and 
I  knew  it  boded  no  good  to  Walter  Butler,  as  far  as  his  hope 
of  Silver  Heels  was  concerned.  A  fierce  happiness  filled  me. 

ue 


CAEDIGAN 

So  now,  at  last,  Sir  William  was  discovering  the  fangs  in  his 
pet  snake ! 

Lord  Dimmore  had  succeeded  in  reversing  a  decanter  of 
port  over  himself  and  Colonel  Glaus,  and  the  latter,  mad  as 
a  wet  cat,  left  the  room  swearing  audibly,  while  his  playful 
Lordship  threw  a  few  glasses  after  him  and  then  collapsed 
in  a  soiled  heap  of  silk  and  jewels,  feebly  calling  on  "  Billy 
Tryon  "  to  try  and  "  conduc  like  er — er — gen'1-m'n,  b'  God !" 

Sir  William  was  steadily  staring  at  Walter  Butler;  I,  too, 
had  my  eye  on  him;  and,  when  he  left  the  table  to  saunter 
towards  the  door,  Sir  William  rose  immediately  to  follow 
him,  and  I  after  Sir  William. 

He  saw  us  coming  as  he  opened  the  door,  and  surveyed  us 
with  cool  effrontery  as  we  joined  him  in  the  hallway. 

"  I  shall  not  require  your  services  hereafter  as  my  secre 
tary,  Captain  Butler,"  said  Sir  William.  "  Will  you  kindly 
hand  your  keys  to  me  ?" 

"  At  your  command,  Sir  William,"  replied  Mr.  Butler, 
drawing  the  keys  from  his  pocket  and  presenting  them  with 
an  ironical  inclination. 

The  man's  careless  self-possession  was  marvellous  consider 
ing  he  was  facing  the  man  he  had  so  vilely  betrayed. 

"Mr.  Butler,"  said  Sir  William,  with  reddening  face,  "I 
consider  myself  released  from  my  consent  to  your  union  with 
my  kinswoman,  Miss  Warren!" 

"As  to  that,  sir,"  observed  Captain  Butler,  cynically,  "I 
shall  take  my  chances." 

I  heard  what  he  said,  but  Sir  William  misunderstood  him. 

"  It  is  your  mischance,  sir,  to  put  no  harsher  interpreta 
tion  on  it.  But  my  decision  is  irrevocable,  Mr.  Butler,  for 
I  have  destined  Miss  Warren  to  a  loyal  man,  my  kinsman, 
Michael  Cardigan !" 

The  spasm  that  jerked  Mr.  Butler's  mouth  into  that  ghastly 
grimace  I  knew  so  well,  was  not  lost  on  Sir  William. 

"  I'll  take  that  chance,  too,"  said  Mr.  Butler,  bowing. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  sir  ?"  demanded  Sir  William,  steady 
ing  his  voice  with  an  effort. 

But  Walter  Butler  only  replied  with  such  glare  at  me  that 
Sir  William  involuntarily  turned  to  find  me,  rigid,  behind 
him.  The  next  moment  Captain  I3utler  passed  noiselessly 

117 


CARDIGAN 

out   into   the   starlight,   wrapping   his   black   cloak   around 
him. 

Sir  William  followed  him  mechanically  to  the  door,  and  I 
at  his  heels,  burning  for  a  quarrel  with  Walter  Butler,  and 
awaiting  only  for  Sir  William  to  return  to  the  library,  and 
leave  me  free  to  follow  and  insult  Mr.  Butler  for  the  treach 
erous  villain  he  had  proved  himself. 

But  Sir  William,  seeing  me  slinking  out,  laid  a  hand  on 
my  shoulder  and  spun  me  sharply  round  on  my  heels  to 
look  into  my  eyes. 

"  Now  what  the  devil  are  you  up  to  ?"  he  broke  out,  half 
divining  the  truth.  "  Michael !  Michael !  Don't  be  a  fool ! 
Are  there  not  fools  enough  here  to-night  ?" 

"  No,  sir,"  I  answered,  sheepishly. 

"  That  is  not  the  way  to  serve  me,  lad,"  said  Sir  William, 
roughly.  "  Have  I  not  sorrow  enough  without  seeing  you 
carried  in  here  with  a  hole  in  your  breast,  you  meddlesome 
ass?" 

"  I  have  a  certain  score  to  clean  off,"  I  muttered. 

"  Oh,"  observed  Sir  William,  coldly,  "  a  selfish  quarrel— eh? 
I  was  a  fond  old  fool  to  think  I  might  count  on  you." 

Tears  started  to  my  eyes;  I  could  have  bitten  my  tongue 
off. 

"You  can  count  on  me,  sir,"  I  said,  choking  out  the 
words.  "  I  meant  no  harm ;  I  am  not  selfish,  sir ;  I  care  only 
for  you." 

"I  know  it,  lad,"  he  said,  kindly.  "And  mind,  I  do  not 
rebuke  your  spirit;  I  only  ask  you  to  learn  discretion.  This 
is  no  time  to  settle  private  matters.  No  man  in  America 
has  that  right  now,  because  every  man's  life  belongs  to  the 
country !" 

"  On  which  side,  sir?"  I  faltered. 

Sir  William  was  silent  for  a  while.  Presently  he  took  my 
arm  and  we  walked  out  under  the  stars. 

"  My  boy,"  he  said,  sadly,  "  I  cannot  answer  you,  but  I 
can  place  matters  in  a  clear  light  for  you.  The  decision 
must  remain  with  yourself." 

Then  he  told  me  how  the  Boston  people  had  been  taxed 
without  their  consent,  but  I  could  not  see  why  they  should 
not  cheerfully  give  their  all  to  their  King,  and  I  said  so. 

118 


CAKDIGAN 

"Very  well,"  replied  Sir  William,  gravely.  "Let  us  ap 
proach  the  matter  from  your  personal  view.  Here  are  you, 
young,  vigorous,  of  good  lineage,  and  sure  to  succeed  to  your 
uncle's  title  and  estate  some  day.  You  are,  at  sixteen,  an 
officer  of  his  Majesty's  border  cavalry;  you  have  every  pros 
pect  of  promotion;  the  King  remembers  your  father,  Gov 
ernor  Tryon  is  your  friend.  And  I,  Michael,  have  decided 
to  leave  you,  in  my  testament,  sufficient  to  maintain  you 
handsomely  should  you  desire  to  marry  Felicity  before  your 
uncle's  death.  That,  my  boy,  is  the  King's  side. 

"  Now  suppose,  from  a  high  motive  of  duty,  you  should  sud 
denly  resolve  to  embrace  the  cause  of  the  plain  people.  Could 
you  renounce  your  commission  in  the  King's  army  to  shoulder 
a  firelock,  perhaps  a  stable-fork,  in  the  ranks  of  your  country 
men?  Could  you  give  up  ease,  hopes,  position?  Could  you 
give  up  your  friends  and  kinsmen  ?  Could  you  give  up  what 
sum  I  may  leave  you  in  my  will  ?  For  Sir  John  would  never 
let  a  penny  of  my  money  go  to  a  rebel.  Could  you  give  up, 
if  need  be,  the  woman  you  loved?  Think,  and  be  not  in 
haste  to  answer.  For  that  is  the  other  side  to  embrace,  with 
perhaps  a  hangman's  rope  at  the  end." 

"  Am  I  to  answer  you  to-night,  sir  ?"  I  asked. 

"  God  forbid!"  he  said,  solemnly. 

"  I  will  say  this,"  said  I ;  "  that  where  my  heart  is,  I 
would  follow  in  rags.  And  my  heart  is  with  you,  sir." 

He  stood  still,  drawing  me  closer,  but  said  nothing  more, 
for  there  came  running  out  of  the  darkness  an  officer  with 
naked  claymore  shining  in  the  starlight,  and  when  he  drew 
near  we  saw  it  was  Mr.  Duncan. 

"The  Indian  is  gone!"  he  panted.  "Gone  away  crazed 
with  fever!  The  doctor  lies  in  the  hut  with  a  broken 
shoulder ;  Quider  crushed  it  in  his  madness !" 

Sir  William  swayed  as  though  struck. 

"  The  sentries  chased  him  to  the  woods,"  continued  poor 
Duncan,  out  of  breath ;  "  but  he  ran  like  a  panther  and — we 
had  your  orders  not  to  fire.  He  will  die,  anyhow ;  the  doctor 
says  he  will  seek  some  creek  or  pond  and  die  in  the  water 
like  a  poisoned  rat.  They  are  bringing  the  doctor  now." 

Up  out  of  the  shadow  loomed  two  soldiers,  forming  a  litter 
with  their  muskets,  on  which  sat  our  doctor,  Pierson,  head 

119 


CARDIGAN 

hanging.    And  when  Sir  William  came  to  him  he  looked  up 
with  a  sick  grimace  and  shook  his  head  feebly. 

"  He  broke  those  ropes  as  though  they  had  been  worsted," 
he  said.  "  I  tried  to  hold  him  down,  but  he  had  the  strength 
of  delirium,  Sir  William.  I  want  that  fat  surgeon  of  the 
Royal  Americans  to  set  this  bone,"  he  added,  weakly,  and 
fell  a-groaning. 

Mr.  Duncan  started  on  a  run  for  the  barracks ;  the  soldiers 
and  the  injured  man  passed  on  towards  the  guard-house,  and 
Sir  William  stood  staring  after  them. 

Presently  he  said,  aloud,  "  God's  will  be  done  on  my  poor 
country!" 

We  walked  back  to  the  house  together.  Some  of  the  guests 
were  leaving,  but  the  card-room  was  still  crowded,  and  in 
the  library  my  Lord  Dunmore  lay  on  the  carpet  cursing  and 
vomiting  and  shrieking  that  no  man  should  put  him  to  bed, 
and  that  he  meant  to  crack  another  bottle  or  a  dozen  heads. 

Here  and  there,  out  through  the  orchard,  drunken  Indians 
lurched  lodgeward,  followed  by  their  patient  squaws;  here 
and  there  sedan-chairs  passed,  the  grunting  bearers  stepping 
lively  in  the  brisk  night  wind. 

Below  the  hill,  in  Johnstown,  the  court-house  windows 
were  still  twinkling  with  lights,  and  when  the  wind  set  our 
way,  we  could  hear  the  distant  strains  of  the  brigade  band 
playing  for  the  dancers. 

Sir  William  entered  the  hallway  of  his  house  and  looked 
around.  In  a  corner  of  one  window  sat  Mrs.  Hamilton  and 
Mr.  Bevan,  somewhat  close  together;  in  another  window 
were  gathered  Colonel  Claus  and  his  lady  and  Sir  John 
Johnson,  whispering.  Brant,  surrounded  by  a  bevy  of  fine 
ladies,  was  turning  over  the  pages  of  a  book  and  answering 
questions  in  polite  monosyllables,  for  he  had  a  quiet  con 
tempt  for  those  who  regarded  him  as  a  curiosity,  though 
susceptible  enough  to  real  homage. 

"  And  out  of  all  my  house,"  murmured  Sir  William,  in  a 
bitter  voice,  "  not  one  whom  I  can  trOst — not  one ! — not  one !" 

After  a  moment  I  plucked  at  his  sleeve,  reproachfully. 

"  Yes — I  know — I  know,  my  boy.  But  I  need  a  man  now 
— a  man  of  experience,  a  man  in  bodily  vigour,  a  man  in  de 
votion." 

120 


CARDIGAN 

"You  need  a  man  to  go  to  Colonel  Cresap,"  I  whispered. 
For  the  first  and  only  time  in  my  life  I  saw  that  I  had 
startled  Sir  William. 

"  Let  me  go,  sir  ?"  I  entreated,  eagerly.  "  If  I  am  keen 
enough  to  read  your  purpose,  I  am  not  too  stupid  to  carry  it 
out.  I  know  what  you  wish.  I  know  you  cannot  trust  your 
message  to  paper,  nor  to  a  living  soul  except  me.  I  know 
what  to  say  to  Colonel  Cresap.  Let  me  serve  you,  sir,  for  I 
do  long  so  to  help  you  ?" 

We  had  fallen  back  to  the  porch  again  while  I  was  speak 
ing,  Sir  William  holding  me  so  tightly  by  the  elbow  that  his 
clutch  numbed  my  arm. 

"  I  cannot,"  he  muttered,  under  his  breath.  "  To-morrow 
Dunmore  will  set  his  spies  to  see  that  Cresap  remains  undis 
turbed.  The  Ohio  trails  will  be  watched  for  a  messenger 
from  me.  Who  knows  what  Dunmore's  and  Butler's  men 
might  do  to  carry  out  their  designs  on  my  Cayugas  ?" 

"  Dare  they  attack  an  officer  in  uniform  ?"  I  asked,  aston 
ished. 

"  What  is  there  to  prevent  a  shot  in  ambush  ?  And  are 
there  no  renegades  in  Johnstown  to  hire?"  replied  Sir  Will 
iam,  bitterly.  "  Why,  the  town's  full  of  them,  lad ;  men  as 
desperate  as  Jack  Mount  himself." 

"  But  I  know  the  woods !  You,  yourself,  sir,  say  I  am  a 
very  Mohawk  in  the  woods !"  I  pleaded.  "  I  fear  no  ambush, 
though  the  highwayman  Jack  Mount  himself  were  after  me. 
Have  I  not  been  twice  to  the  Virginia  line  with  Brant?  Do 
you  think  I  could  fail  to  reach  Cresap  with  the  whole  forest 
as  plain  to  me  as  the  Stony  Way  below  this  hill?  And  re 
member  I  carry  no  papers  to  be  stolen.  I  could  first  go  with 
belts  to  the  Cayugas,  and  tell  the  truth  about  Quider  and  his 
party.  Then  I  would  deliver  the  belts  as  you  delivered  them 
to  Quider.  Then  I  would  find  Cresap  and  show  him  what 
a  fool  he  is." 

"  And  so  serve  the  enemies  of  the  King  ?"  said  Sir  William, 
looking  keenly  at  me. 

"  And  so  serve  you,  sir,"  I  retorted,  in  a  flash.  "  Are  you 
an  enemy  to  the  King  ?" 

"  But,  my  boy,"  said  Sir  William,  huskily,  "  do  you  under 
stand  that  you  must  go  alone  on  this  mission?" 

121 


CARDIGAN 

I  sprang  forward  and  threw  my  arms  around  him  with  a 
hug  like  a  young  bear. 

"  Then  I'm  going !  I'm  going !"  I  whispered,  enchanted, 
while  he  murmured  brokenly  that  he  could  not  spare  me  and 
that  I  was  all  he  had  on  earth. 

But  I  would  not  be  denied;  I  coaxed  him  to  my  little  bed 
room,  lighted  the  candle,  and  made  him  sit  down  on  my  cot. 
Then  I  explained  excitedly  my  purpose,  and  to  prove  that  I 
knew  the  trails,  I  sharpened  my  treasured  Faber  pencil  and 
made  a  drawing  for  him,  noting  every  ford  and  carrying- 
place — which  latter  I  proposed  to  avoid — and  finally  hazarded 
a  guess  as  to  the  exact  spot  where  Colonel  Cresap  might  be 
found. 

Also,  in  pantomime  and  whispers,  I  rehearsed  the  part  I 
meant  to  play  before  the  Cayugas,  making  the  speeches  that 
Sir  William  had  made  to  Quider,  as  nearly  as  I  could  re 
member,  and  delivering  each  belt  in  dumb  show  and  with 
all  the  dignity  I  could  command,  till  I  came  to  the  last, 
which,  by  mistake,  I  spoke  of  as  a  red  instead  of  black 
belt. 

"  Wait,"  interrupted  Sir  William,  who  had  become  deeply 
interested ;  "  what  is  i  black  '  in  the  Mohawk  tongue  ?" 

"  Kahonji,"  I  replied,  promptly, 

"  And  in  Onondaga  ?" 

"  Osuntah,  sir." 

"  And  in  Cayuga  ?" 

I  hesitated,  then  blushed,  for  I  did  not  know. 

"  Sweandaea,"  said  Sir  William,  gravely;  "how  are  you 
to  bear  my  peace-belts  if  you  know  not  the  red  of  war  from 
the  black  of  good  intent  ?" 

"  I  should  have  said  '  Hot-Kwah-Weyo  ' — good-red,  not 
war-red,"  I  replied,  so  na'ively  that  Sir  William  laughed  out 
right. 

"  With  such  resourceful  impudence,"  he  said,  "  you  cannot 
be  misunderstood  among  the  Six  Nations.  It  eases  my  mind 
to  find  you  quick  and  ingenious  in  a  tight  place,  lad.  But, 
Michael,  have  a  care  to  use  no  Delaware  words,  for  that 
would  render  my  Cayugas  suspicious." 

I  promised  eagerly,  and  we  sat  down  together  to  go  over 
the  trailj  mile  by  mile,  computing  the  circles  I  should  be 

122 


CARDIGAN 

obliged  to  take  to  avoid  the  carrying-places  where  spies  were 
most  to  be  feared. 

"  Dunmore  rides  South  in  a  week,"  said  Sir  William. 
"  But  he  will  not  wait  till  he  reaches  Virginia  before  he  sends 
out  his  emissaries  to  urge  Cresap  on.  You  must  beat  them, 
lad,  and  go  afoot  at  that." 

"  I  can  go  the  faster,"  said  I.  "  Horses  are  useless  in  the 
Pennsylvania  bush  until  you  reach  Crown  Gap.  I  take  it 
that  Lord  Dunmore's  men,  being  Virginians,  will  go  mount 
ed,  and  that  gives  me  double  time  to  reach  Cresap." 

And  so  we  sat  there  together  on  the  bed,  planning,  sug 
gesting  precautions,  counting  the  dangers  and  mischances 
only  to  discount  them  with  confidence  in  my  knowledge  of 
woodcraft,  and  the  night  wore  on  till  my  candle  sank  into  a 
lake  of  wax,  trailing  a  long,  flaring  flame. 

"  There  is  one  thing  I  have  thought  of,"  said  I,  soberly. 
"  It  is  this :  if  I  am  going  out  as  an  enemy  to  the  King,  I 
cannot  for  shame  aid  me  by  wearing  the  King's  uniform. 
Therefore,  with  your  approval,  sir,  I  will  go  in  my  buckskins, 
unless  you  believe  that,  by  this  journey  of  mine,  I  will  benefit 
our  King." 

"  Then,"  said  Sir  William,  slowly,  "  you  must  go  in  your 
buckskins,  lad." 

The  moment  had  come ;  I  was  face  to  face  with  it  now. 

"  Am — am  I  to  resign  my  commission  in  the  Border  Horse, 
sir?"  I  faltered.  The  prospect  of  the  sacrifice  choked  my 
speech,  and  my  heart  swelled  with  a  grief  that  sent  the  water 
to  my  eyes  in  spite  of  me. 

Sir  William  considered  me  in  silence,  then  broke  out: 
"  No,  no !  Not  yet.  Who  knows  but  what  this  war  may 
never  break  over  us!  No,  no,  my  boy!  Your  errand  is  an 
errand  of  justice  and  mercy.  I  send  you  as  my  own  mes 
senger.  It  is  my  duty  to  protect  my  Cayugas,  and  it  is 
yours  to  obey  me.  You  may,  for  the  present  at  least,  retain 
your  commission  and  your  sword  with  honour.  It  is  Dun- 
more  and  Butler  we  are  fighting  now,  not  our  King." 

"  I  shall  go  in  my  buckskins,  anyhow,"  I  said,  cheerfully, 
and  thankful  that  the  evil  moment  had  been  put  off — that 
evil  moment  which  I  now  understood  was  surely  coming  for 
us  both.  He  knew  it,  too ;  his  face  was  loose  and  seamed  and 

123 


CARDIGAN 

gray  and  haggard;  the  light  of  the  candle's  smoky  wick, 
swimming  in  wax,  threw  ghastly  shadows  over  brow  and 
cheeks. 

As  we  sat  there,  my  hand  in  his,  staring  at  the  phantoms 
of  that  ominous  future,  I  heard  Silver  Heels  come  running 
up  the  stairs  and  stop  at  my  door,  calling  out  to  Sir  William. 

When  I  opened  the  door  she  drew  back  scornfully,  but, 
catching  a  glimpse  of  Sir  William  within,  she  marched  past 
me  and  perched  herself  011  Sir  William's  knees,  both  arms 
around  his  neck. 

What  she  whispered  to  him  I  could  not  hear,  but  he  prompt 
ly  shook  his  head  in  refusal,  and  presently  it  came  out  that 
she  was  teasing  to  be  allowed  to  go  with  a  certain  fat  dame, 
Lady  Shelton,  and  make  a  month's  stay  with  her  at  Pittsburg. 

"  I  do  so  long  to  go,"  pleaded  Silver  Heels.  "  I  have  never 
been  anywhere,  you  know.  And  we  are  to  have  such  rare 
pleasures  at  the  June  running  races,  and  there  will  be  horses 
from  Virginia  and  Maryland  and  New  York,  and  we  are  to 
have  dancing  every  evening  and  a  dinner  given  for  me !  Oh, 
dear !  Oh,  dear !  I  want  to  go  so  much !  I  truly  do,  sir,  and 
I  should  be  so  happy  and  so  thankful  to  you — 

"  Tn  Heaven's  name,  stop  your  chatter,  Felicity !"  cried  Sir 
William,  striving  to  undo  her  arms  from  his  neck,  but  she 
only  kissed  him  and  clung  so  tightly  and  reproachfully  that 
he  gave  up  in  sheer  fatigue. 

"  Oh,  go,  then !  Go,  you  little  witch !  And  mind  you  take 
Betty  with  you!  And  mind  that  Aunt  Mary  provides  for 
you  ere  you  go !" 

Silver  Heels  embraced  him  rapturously  with  a  little  shout 
of  delight,  and  sped  away  to  the  nursery  without  a  glance  at 
me.  What  did  I  care  ?  I  had  begun  to  dislike  her  cordially ; 
I  could  afford  to,  now  that  she  in  her  turn  disliked  Mr.  Bevan. 

I  had  also  the  savage  satisfaction  of  remembering  that  she 
was  free  of  Walter  Butler  forever,  and  I  observed  her  de 
parture  grimly.  As  for  Sir  William's  new  desire  to  see  us 
wedded,  I  had  not  at  all  made  up  my  mind.  Besides,  Silver 
Heels  despised  me,  and  I  would  not  endure  that. 

Presently  Sir  William  rose  and  walked  out  into  the  hall 
way,  saying,  with  affected  carelessness:  "  Then  you  will  start 
before  dawn,  Michael  ?" 

124 


CARDIGAN 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  I,  cheerfully. 

"  I  shall  be  in  the  library  when  you  go.  Stop  there  a  mo 
ment." 

His  voice  was  quivering,  but  he  did  not  flinch,  and  I  heard 
him  descending  the  stairs  towards  the  nursery  where  Mistress 
Molly  was  saying :  "  What  is  all  this  about  Felicity's  journey 
ing  to  Pittsburg,  Sir  William?  Why,  the  child  has  no  clothes 
that  befit  her  rank  and  station,  dear,  and  the  expense — " 

"  Tush !  Who  cares  for  the  expense  ?  If  she's  going  she's 
got  enough  to  start  with,  and  I'll  send  to  New  York,  my  dear. 
Of  course  I  know  our  little  maid  must  outshine  the  rest  o' 
them,  Molly.  Make  a  list  for  York,  and  I'll  send  it  by  Billy 
Tryon." 

Their  voices  were  shut  out  with  the  nursery  door  closing, 
and  I  stole  back  through  the  dark  entry  into  my  room  and 
lighted  another  candle. 

In  the  feverish  delight  of  preparation,  I  gave  little  thought 
to  Silver  Heels.  Excitement  at  the  nearness  of  my  departure 
proved  a  lively  antidote  for  sorrow — nay,  the  fever  of  antici 
pation  burnt  out  regret  and  seared  with  its  caustic  the  frail 
unopened  bud  of  romance. 

Silver  Heels?  Silver  Heels?  What  did  I  care  now?  Let 
her  live  to  regret  it  all — after  I  had  gone!  Let  her  live  to 
marvel  at  my  mysterious  disappearance,  and  vainly  seek  to 
solve  it  until  I  returned,  loaded  with  glory  and  importance. 
Then  I  might  see  her  at  Fort  Pitt.  But  what  did  I  care? 
She  couldn't  marry  Walter  Butler;  the  dragoon  Bevan  be 
longed  to  Mrs.  Hamilton ;  and  now  she  was  going  to  Pittsburg 
to  see  the  races  and  be  rid  of  both  Butler  and  Bevan.  So  all 
was  right  everywhere;  let  the  world  spin  on!  As  for  me,  I 
was  off  for  glory  and  the  green  delight  of  the  woodlands  that 
I  loved. 

I  made  up  my  pack  on  the  bed:  a  blanket,  four  pairs  of 
Mohawk  moccasins,  a  change  of  flannels,  a  spare  shirt,  and 
three  pairs  of  knitted  socks.  Down  in  the  store-room  I  found 
corn-meal,  salt,  and  pork,  and  tied  each  in  its  sack.  Powder 
and  ball  were  to  be  had  in  the  guard-house,  so  I  ran  across 
the  grass  and  into  the  block-house  where  Wraxall,  our  sottish 
Johnstown  barber,  stood  shaving  Mr.  Duncan. 

"  Better  join  me  in  a  midnight  shave !"  he  called  out,  as  I 

125 


CAKDIGAN 

darted  past  and  unhooked  the  keys  of  the  magazine  from  the 
brass  nail  over  the  fireplace. 

When  I  returned  with  the  powder  and  bullets  I  weighed 
them  in  the  guard-house  scales  and  gave  Mr.  Duncan  a 
written  receipt  for  them. 

"  Come !  come !  Mr.  Cardigan,"  he  said,  "  would  you  kill 
deer  in  May?  What  the  deuce  do  you  want  of  all  this  pow 
der?  Nobody  has  dug  up  any  war-hatchets  that  I  know  of." 

Wraxall,  who  was  strapping  his  razor,  looked  at  me  curi 
ously.  I  ignored  Mr.  Duncan's  banter  and  plumped  myself 
into  the  chair  where  he  had  been  sitting. 

"  A  close  shave  for  Mr.  Cardigan !"  said  Mr.  Duncan,  hold 
ing  his  dripping  face  over  the  barber's  basin.  "  Unless,"  he 
added,  politely,  "  the  gentleman  desires  you  to  leave  his 
mustachios  a  la  Frangaise." 

My  face  being  as  smooth  as  a  girl's,  the  barber  sneered, 
but  I  bade  him  lather  me  deep  and  have  a  care  to  follow 
grain.  I  cared  not  a  whit  for  Mr.  Duncan's  mirth,  I  was 
too  happy,  and  when  Wraxall  had  scraped  me  well,  I  ordered 
him  to  shear  off  my  hair. 

"  Piteous  Heaven !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Duncan.  "  Nay,  bar 
ber  ! — spare  that  queue !" 

"  Off  it  drops !"  said  I,  briskly.  "  Now  get  the  hair-powder 
out,  and  trim  my  hair  to  a  crop,  Wraxall!  Whew!  man, 
don't  breathe  on  me,  you  malt-worm!  I  don't  want  to  get 
drunk,  I  want  a  cropped  head!" 

"  Shaved  for  a  wig,  sir  ?"  demanded  Wraxall,  sulkily,  fid 
dling  with  his  shears. 

"  No,  no,"  I  replied,  hastily,  while  Mr.  Duncan  roared  with 
laughter;  "I  don't  desire  a  shaved  pate,  my  friend.  Cut  it 
a  la  coureur-de-bois !" 

"  Do  you  expect  to  take  the  King's  highway  with  Jack 
Mount  ?"  asked  Mr.  Duncan.  But  I  refused  to  be  drawn  out, 
and  finally  he  went  away  with  his  curiosity  on  tenter-hooks 
and  none  the  wiser. 

When  Wraxall  had  shorn  me  and  removed  the  powder  from 
my  hair,  I  gathered  up  my  ammunition  and  provisions  and 
hastened  back  to  the  house.  The  place  was  dark  save  for  a 
light  in  the  library.  I  felt  my  way  up  the  stairs  and  into  my 
chamber,  where  I  first  filled  bullet-pouch  and  powder-horn, 

126 


OAEDIGAN 

then  rolled  the  spare  ammunition  and  provisions  into  my 
pack  and  buckled  the  load  tightly. 

Now,  rapidly  undressing,  I  donned  a  new  hunting-shirt 
and  leggings,  first  making  sure  that  the  fringe  had  not  been 
weakened  by  mice,  to  leave  me  without  cords  should  I  need 
them.  Over  my  shoulders  I  slung  powder-horn  and  bullet- 
pouch,  slipped  hatchet  and  hunting-knife  into  the  clout 
pockets,  and  then  took  my  rifle  from  the  corner  and  un 
wrapped  the  deer-hide  case. 

Thrice  I  tested  the  flint,  pouring  a  little  powder  into  the 
pan,  and  thrice  the  pan  flashed,  and  the  ball  of  vapour  shot 
up  to  the  ceiling.  So  all  was  ready.  I  lingered  only  to 
buckle  my  money-belt  under  my  shirt,  pouch  a  dozen  new 
flints  and  a  case  of  wadding,  then  hoisted  my  pack  to  my 
shoulders,  strapped  it  on  the  hips,  blew  out  the  candle,  and 
stole  into  the  hallway,  trailing  my  rifle. 

Passing  the  door  of  Silver  Heels's  chamber,  my  heart  sud 
denly  grew  tender  and  I  hesitated.  But  the  memory  of  her 
many  misdeeds  hardened  it  immediately,  and  I  went  on, 
tasting  contentedly  of  a  perverse  resentment  which  smacked 
pleasantly  of  martyrdom.  All  asses,  they  say,  are  born  to 
martyrdom. 

I  crept  past  the  nursery  without  accident,  but  barked  my 
shins  on  the  stocks  in  the  hallway.  Yet  Mistress  Molly  did 
not  awake — or  was  it  that  she  knew  what  errand  I  was  bound 
on?  Perhaps.  Still,  to  this  day  I  do  not  know  whether  or 
not  Sir  William  had  confided  in  her.  God  rest  her !  I  never 
saw  her  again. 

I  went  softly  through  the  lower  hall,  through  the  card- 
room,  and  tapped  at  the  library  door.  It  was  opened  without 
a  sound. 

We  gazed  silently  at  each  other  for  a  long  time.  I,  for  one, 
could  not  trust  myself  to  speak.  All  the  joy  and  exhilara 
tion  of  adventure  had  suddenly  left  me;  I  felt  the  straps  of 
my  pack  straining  my  shoulders,  but  the  burden  on  my  back 
was  not  as  heavy  as  my  heart's  full  load. 

He  seemed  so  old,  so  tired,  so  gray;  his  eyes  had  acquired 
that  peering  look  which  one  notices  in  faces  scored  by  care. 
What  a  blight  had  come  upon  him  in  these  few  weeks !  Where 
was  that  ruddy  glow,  that  full  swell  of  muscle  as  he  moved, 

127 


CARDIGAN 

that  clear-eyed,  full-fronted  presence  that  I  knew  so  well? 
How  old  his  hands  appeared  under  the  cuff's  limp  lace;  how 
old  his  loose  face,  all  in  ashy  seams;  how  old  his  slow  eyes — 
how  old,  old,  old ! 

He  rose  as  though  his  back,  instead  of  mine,  bore  the  bur 
den,  and  together,  without  a  word,  we  passed  through  the 
dark  house  and  out  to  the  porch.  Dawn  silvered  the  east, 
but  the  moon  in  its  first  quarter  lay  afloat  in  the  western 
clouds,  and  a  few  stars  looked  down  through  a  sky  caked  with 
frosted  fleece. 

He  embraced  me  in  silence,  holding  me  a  long  time  to  his 
breast,  yet  never  a  word  was  said,  and  never  a  sound  fell  on 
the  night  air  save  my  desperate  gulps  to  crush  back  the  sob 
that  strained  in  my  throat. 

Presently  I  was  conscious  that  I  had  left  him,  and  was 
running  fast  through  the  darkness,  blind  as  a  bat  for  the 
tears,  breathless,  too,  for,  as  I  halted  and  turned  to  look 
back,  far  away  against  the  dawn  I  saw  our  house  as  a  black 
mass,  with  a  single  candle  twinkling  in  the  basement.  So  I 
knew  Sir  William  still  kept  his  vigil  in  the  library. 

The  streets  of  Johnstown  were  dark,  save  for  the  rare 
lanthorns  of  the  watchmen,  but  there  seemed  to  be  many 
people  abroad,  most  of  them  noisy  and  quarrelsome.  To  tell 
the  truth,  I  had  never  before  seen  so  much  swaggering  and 
drunkenness  in  Johnstown,  and  I  marvelled  at  it  as  I  hasten 
ed  on.  Once,  as  I  passed  a  tavern,  two  men,  journeying  in 
opposite  directions,  hailed  each  other  with  a  new  phrase: 
"  Greeting,  friend !  God  save  our  country !"  At  which  a 
drunken  soldier  from  the  tavern  bawled  out :  "  God  save  our 
country — eh?  That's  the  Boston  rebels'  password!  God 
save  the  King  and  damn  the  country! — you  yellow-bellied 
Whigs!" 

A  small  crowd  gathered,  but  I  hastened  on ;  yet  behind  me 
I  heard  oaths  and  blows  and  cries  of :  "  Lobster !  Tory ! 
Kill  the  red-coat!"  And  everywhere  along  the  street  win 
dows  were  raised  and  men  looked  out,  some  shouting: 
"Rebel!"  "Traitor!"  or  "Bloody-back!"  "Tea-sot—toss 
pot  !"  and  some  called  for  the  watch. 

Many  people  began  to  rush  hither  and  thither.  A  little 
peddler  got  under  my  feet  and  fell  sprawling  and  squealing 

128 


CARDIGAN 

till  I  picked  him  up  and  set  him  on  his  legs.  He  was  a 
small  Hebrew  man,  Saul  Shemuel,  who  came  a-peddling 
often  to  our  servants;  but  in  his  terror  he  did  not  know  me, 
and  he  iled  madly  into  .Rideup's  Tavern  with  a  soldier  after 
him,  vowing  he'd  have  one  rebel  scalp  even  though  it  were 
a  Jewish  one. 

I  had  no  time  to  linger,  yet  behind  me  I  heard  a  sharp 
fight  begin  at  Rideup's  Tavern,  which  is  another  pot-house 
much  frequented  by  Boston  men.  Presently  as  I  climbed  the 
hill  I  heard  the  drums  at  the  guard-house  beating  the  alarm, 
and  I  knew  the  fray  would  soon  end  with  the  patrol's  arrival 
from  their  barracks. 

But  what  had  come  over  our  staid  towns-people  and  farm 
ers  and  tenants  that  they  should  damn  each  other  for  rebels 
and  Tories?  It  amazed  me  to  see  old  neighbours  shaking 
their  fists  out  of  windows  and  cursing  one  another  with  such 
extraordinary  and  unnecessary  fury. 

Truly,  if  in  our  village  this  question  of  tuppence  worth  o' 
tea  drove  men  mad,  what  wonder  Sir  William  and  Governor 
Tryon  should  frown  and  shake  their  heads  over  a  pinch  o' 
snuff? 

But  I  was  to  leave  all  this  trouble  behind  me  now.  Already 
the  misty  wilderness  loomed  up  in  the  south,  vague  as  a 
ghostly  vision  in  the  moon's  beams.  Ah,  my  woods! — my 
dear,  dear  woods!  One  plunge  into  that  dim,  sweet  shadow 
and  what  cared  I  for  King  or  rebel  or  any  woman  who  ever 
lived  ? 


CHAPTER  IX 

MY"  first  three  weeks  in  the  woods  were  weeks  of  heaven. 
Never  had  I  seen  the  forest  so  beautiful,  never  had  the 
soft  velvet  lights  clothed  the  wilderness  with  such  exquisite 
mystery.  Along  the  stony  beds  of  lost  ravines  I  passed  and 
saw  the  frosty  bowlders  lie  like  silver  mounds  in  the  dawn, 
glimmering  through  steaming  waters.  I  passed  at  eventide 
when  the  sunset  turned  the  cliffs  to  crumbling  crags  of  gold, 
and  I  saw  massed  mountain  peaks  reflected  in  pools  where 
the  shadows  of  great  fish  moved  like  clouds. 

I  ate  and  drank  and  slept  in  the  dim  wood  stillness  undis 
turbed;  I  waked  when  my  guide,  the  sun,  flamed  through  the 
forest,  and  I  followed  in  his  lead,  resting  when  he  hung  cir 
cling  in  the  noonday  heavens,  following  again  when  he  re 
sumed  the  sky-trail  towards  the  west,  seeking  my  couch  when 
he  lay  down  below  the  world's  blue  edge  to  fold  him  in  the 
blanket  of  the  night. 

Twice  came  the  rain,  delicately  perfumed  showers  shaking 
down  through  a  million  leaves,  leaving  frail  trails  of  vapour 
errant  through  the  trees,  and  powdered  jewels  on  every  leaf. 

And  I  lived  well  on  that  swift  trail  where  the  gray  grouse 
scuttled  through  the  saplings,  and  in  every  mossy  streamlet 
the  cold,  dusky  troutlings  fought  for  the  knot  of  scarlet 
yarn  on  my  short  hand-line.  Once  I  saw  bronzed  turkeys, 
all  huddled  in  a  brood  at  twilight,  craning  and  peering  from 
their  tree-perch;  but  let  them  go,  as  I  had  meat  to  spare. 
Once,  too,  at  dawn,  I  heard  a  bull-moose  lipping  tree-buds, 
and  lay  still  in  my  blanket  while  the  huge  beast  wandered 
past,  crack!  crash!  and  slop!  slop!  through  the  creek,  his 
hide  all  smeared  with  clay  and  a  swarm  of  forest  flies  whirl 
ing  over  him.  Lord,  how  rank  he  did  smell,  but  for  all  that 
I  was  glad  the  wind  set  not  the  other  way,  for  it  is  sometimes 
the  toss  of  a  coin  what  your  bull-moose  will  do,  run  or  fight 

130 


CARDIGAN 

at  sight;  nor  is  it  even  doubtful  in  September,  when  the 
moose-cow  wallows  and  bawls  across  the  marshes  for  her 
antlered  gallant  on  the  ridge. 

I  saw  but  one  moose,  for  there  are  not  many  in  our  forests, 
though  they  say  the  Canadas  do  swarm  with  them,  and  also 
with  elks  and  caribous. 

There  were  few  birds  to  be  seen  except  near  rivers :  a  blue- 
gray  meat-bird  here  and  there  whining  in  the  hemlocks,  a 
great  owl  huddled  on  a  limb,  and  sometimes  a  troop  of  black- 
cheeked  chickadees  that  came  cheerfully  to  hand  for  a  crumb 
of  corn.  Squirrels  were  everywhere — that  is,  everywhere 
except  through  the  pine  belts,  and  there  I  had  to  make  out 
with  the  bitter  flesh  of  those  villain  partridges  which  feed  on 
spruce-tips.  I'd  as  soon  eat  a  hawk  in  winter  or  dine  on  slices 
of  fried  spruce-gum,  for  truly  there  is  more  nourishment  in 
a  moccasin  than  in  these  ignoble  birds  dressed  up  like  tooth 
some  partridges. 

I  had  not  met  a  soul  on  the  trail,  nor  had  I  found  any 
fresh  signs  save  once,  and  that  was  the  print  of  a  white  man's 
moccasin  on  the  edge  of  a  sandy  strip  near  the  head-waters 
of  the  Ohio,  which  is  called  the  Alleghany,  north  of  Fort  Pitt. 

This  foot-mark  disturbed  me,  although  it  was  three  days 
old  and  pointing  north.  But  that  signified  nothing,  for  the 
man  who  made  it  had  come  in  a  canoe,  yet  I  could  find  no 
sign  that  a  canoe  had  been  beached  there,  nor,  indeed,  any 
further  marks  of  moccasins,  and  I  made  moderate  haste  to 
get  under  cover,  as  I  am  timid  about  things  I  cannot  account 
for. 

Reason  enough,  moreover,  for  if  there  were  no  signs  except 
that  single  imprint,  it  was  clear  that  the  man  who  left  that 
mark  was  wading  the  river  because  he  wished  to  leave  no 
trail.  And  who  is  not  suspicious  of  those  who  appear  to  be  at 
pains  to  conceal  their  tracks  ? 

There  is  something  terrifying  in  the  sudden  apparition  of 
a  fellow-creature  in  the  woods.  When  one  has  been  living 
alone  in  the  forest  solitude,  day  after  day,  perhaps  even 
craving  company,  I  know  nothing  so  shocking  as  the  unex 
pected  sight  of  another  man  in  the  wilderness. 

Why  this  is  so,  why  fear,  caution,  and  anger  are  invariably 
the  primal  instincts,  I  do  not  fully  understand. 

131 


CARDIGAN 

Sometimes,  lying  perdu,  I  have  seen  the  tasselled  ears  of 
a  wild-cat  flatten  at  first  sight  of  a  stranger  cat;  I  have  seen 
the  wolverine  snarl  hideously  as  he  winded  a  strange  com 
rade;  I  have  seen  the  solitary  timber-wolf  halt,  hair  on  end 
and  every  hot  fang  bared,  where  a  brother  wolf  had  crossed 
his  trail  an  hour  before. 

So  I ;  for  as  I  slunk  away  from  that  foot-mark  in  the  sand- 
willows,  I  found  myself  priming  my  rifle  and  looking  behind 
me  with  all  the  horror  of  a  Robinson  Crusoe,  though  I  had 
miles  of  country  to  avoid  the  unknown  man  withal. 

Early  that  morning,  having  crossed,  as  nearly  as  I  could 
make  out,  the  boundary  between  our  Province  of  New  York 
and  the  Province  of  Pennsylvania,  I  had  approached,  some 
what  nearer  than  I  meant  to,  the  carrying-place  on  the  Alle- 
ghany,  which  lies  directly  in  the  Fort  Pitt  trail. 

Now,  at  mid-day,  the  sun  heating  the  forest,  I  found  my 
pack  very  heavy  and  my  shirt  wet  with  exertion,  but  dared 
not  halt  until  I  had  circled  around  that  carrying-place.  So 
I  toiled  on,  the  very  rifle  in  my  hand  heavy  as  lead,  and  my 
eyes  nearly  blinded  with  the  sweat  that  poured  from  my 
hair  and  neck,  bathing  me  in  a  sort  of  stinging  coolness. 
My  stomach,  too,  was  asking  the  hour,  and  the  green-eyed 
deer-flies  whirled  over  me,  fierce  for  blood,  for  I  durst  not 
lag  even  to  wash  my  face  in  oil  of  pennyroyal. 

It  was  only  when  at  last  above  the  trees  in  the  east  I  per 
ceived  the  blue  peak  of  a  mountain  that  I  knew  I  was  safe 
enough;  for  the  peak  in  the  east  belonged  to  the  Alleghany 
range,  and  I  had  steered  a  fine  circle  without  losing  a  mile. 

However.  I  jogged  on  along  a  runway  made  hard  by  the 
hoof  of  countless  deer  herds,  until  I  came  to  a  thread  of 
water  curving  through  the  moss  like  a  sword-blade  on  green 
velvet.  Here  I  knelt,  let  go  my  pack,  and  rolled  over  on  the 
moss,  dog-tired. 

Hands  clasped  on  my  empty  stomach  I  lay  looking  up  at 
the  sky  through  the  matted  leaves  that  thatched  my  forest 
roof,  too  tired  even  to  drink.  But  the  accursed  deer-flies  drove 
me  to  water  as  they  drive  the  deer,  and  I  drank  my  fill  and 
smeared  me  with  pennyroyal  and  tallow,  face  and  wrists. 

For  the  first  time  since  I  had  entered  the  wilderness  I 
made  no  fire,  but  munched  a  cold  breast  of  partridge  and 

132 


CARDIGAN" 

drove  it  into  my  stomach  with  bits  of  ash-cake,  drinking  a 
mouthful  between  bites  to  moisten  the  dry  cheer.  I  ate  very 
slowly,  my  eyes  making  their  mechanical  circuit  of  the  silent 
trees,  my  ears  ever  flattened  for  a  noise  behind  me. 

Silence  breeds  silence;  man's  movements  in  the  woods  are 
soft  and  cat-like  where  caution  is  an  instinct.  I  speak  of 
true  woodsmen — those  who  know  the  solitary  life — not  of 
loud  and  careless  men  who  swagger  into  God's  woodland 
mysteries  as  to  a  tavern  tap-room. 

Now,  as  I  sat  there,  crumbs  on  my  knees  yet  unbrushed,  a 
sudden  instinct  arose  in  me  that  I  had  been  followed;  nay, 
not  so  sudden,  either,  for  the  vague  idea  had  been  slowly 
taking  shape  since  I  had  seen  that  sign  in  the  river-bed 
among  the  willows. 

I  had  absolutely  no  reason  for  believing  this ;  the  foot-print 
was  three  days  old  and  it  pointed  north.  Yet,  at  the  mere 
thought,  the  skin  on  my  neck  began  to  roughen  and  my  nose 
gave  little  twitches.  Unconsciously  I  had  already  risen, 
priming  my  rifle,  and  for  a  moment,  I  stood  there,  ankle 
deep  in  moss.  Then,  moved  by  no  impulse  of  my  own,  I 
swear,  I  lifted  my  pack  and  passed  swiftly  along  the  little 
brook  towards  the  main  trail.  Presently,  through  the  wil 
lows  to  the  right,  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  shallow  stream 
rushing  noiselessly  over  a  sand  bottom,  and  on  the  other  side 
of  the  stream  I  saw  a  notched  tree,  the  Fort  Pitt  trail ! 

Now  I  deliberately  made  a  string  of  plain  foot-tracks  along 
the  sandy  stream,  pointing  towards  the  shallowest  spot. 
Here  I  forded,  and  made  more  tracks  in  the  mud,  entering 
the  Fort  Pitt  trail.  I  ran  down  this  trail  till  I  came  to  a 
brier,  and  on  the  thorns  of  a  spray  which  crossed  the  broad, 
hard  trail,  I  left  a  few  strings  from  my  fringed  hunting- 
shirt.  Then  I  began  to  walk  backward  till  I  reached  the  spot 
where  I  had  entered  the  trail  from  the  sandy  stream.  I 
backed  down  this  bank,  forded  the  shallows,  then,  instead  of 
coming  out  on  the  sand,  I  waded  up  stream  to  my  little 
thread  of  a  brook,  and  up  that  brook  till  I  found  a  great  log 
choking  it.  And  behind  this  log  I  squatted,  panting,  and 
astonished  at  my  own  performance. 

Yet,  even  now,  I  could  not  find  reason  to  blush  at  my 
timid  precautions,  for  that  feeling  of  being  followed  still 

133 


CARDIGAN 

haunted  me.  It  was  neither  a  coward's  panic  nor  a  cool 
man's  alarm;  it  was  something  that  drove  me  to  cover  my 
tracks.  The  white  hare  does  it  when  unpursued  by  hounds; 
the  grouse  do  it  when  no  pointer  follows — why?  I  know 
no  more  than  the  white  hare  or  the  grouse. 

From  my  form  among  the  ferns,  rabbit-like  I  huddled  with 
palpitating  flanks  and  nose  atwitch  in  the  wind.  Nothing 
stirred  save  those  sad,  deformed  leaves  that  drift  earthward, 
dead  ere  spring  is  fled.  Bubble !  bubble !  dripped  the  stream, 
its  tiny  waterfall  full  of  voices,  now  clear,  now  indistinct, 
but  always  calling  sweetly,  "Michael!  Michael!  Michael!" 
And  if  your  name  be  not  Michael,  nevertheless  it  will  call 
you  by  your  name.  And  the  voice  is  ever  the  voice  of  the 
best  beloved. 

Alert,  sniffing  the  air,  I  still  could  hear  the  voice  of  Silver 
Heels,  down  under  the  waterfall,  and  sometimes  she  called 
through  laughter,  "Michael!"  and  sometimes  far  away  like 
a  wind-blown  cry,  and  sometimes  like  a  whisper  close  to  my 
face. 

So  rang  her  voice  as  an  old  song  in  my  ears,  the  while  my 
eyes  scanned  the  dappled  tree-trunks  of  a  silvery  beechwood, 
east  and  west,  and  through  a  long  vista  where,  across  a  sunny 
streak  of  water,  the  Fort  Pitt  trail  ran  southwest. 

The  sun  had  spanned  an  hour's  length  on  the  blue  dial  of 
the  sky,  yet  nothing  moved  in  the  woods.  Still,  strangely, 
I  felt  no  impatience,  no  desire  to  chide  myself  for  good  time 
lost  in  groundless  watchfulness.  One  by  one  the  tall  trees 
shed  young  leaves  too  early  dead;  the  voices  in  the  water 
fall  made  low  melody ;  the  white  sun-spots  waned  and  glowed, 
mottling  the  silvered  tree-trunks,  lacing  the  water  with  a 
paler  fretwork. 

I  sat  now  with  my  cheek  on  the  cool,  moist  log,  my  rifle  in 
my  lap,  watching  the  trees  along  the  Fort  Pitt  trail.  And, 
as  I  watched,  I  saw  a  man  come  out  on  the  sandy  bank  of 
the  stream  and  kneel  down  where  my  tracks  crossed  to  the 
water's  edge. 

I  was  not  astonished,  but  all  over  me  my  flesh  moved,  and 
without  a  sound  I  sank  down  behind  my  log  into  a  soft  ball 
of  buckskin. 

The  man  was  Walter  Butler.  I  knew  him,  though  God 

134 


CAKDIGAN 

alone  knows  how  I  could,  for  he  wore  the  shirt  of  a  Mohawk 
and  beaded  leggings  to  the  hips,  and  at  that  distance  might 
have  been  an  Indian.  He  bore  a  rifle,  and  there  was  a  hatchet 
in  his  beaded  belt,  and  on  his  head  he  wore  a  round  cap  of 
moleskin  under  which  his  black,  coarse  hair,  freed  from  the 
queue,  fell  to  his  chin. 

He  crouched  there,  examining  my  tracks  with  closest  at 
tention  for  full  a  minute,  then  rose  gracefully  and  followed, 
tracing  them  up  to  the  Fort  Pitt  trail. 

Here  I  saw  two  other  men  come  swiftly  through  the  trees 
to  meet  him,  but,  though  they  gesticulated  violently  and 
pointed  down  the  stream,  they  spoke  too  low  for  me  to  hear 
a  single  whisper. 

Suddenly,  to  my  horror,  a  canoe  shot  across  my  line  of 
sight  and  stopped  as  suddenly,  held  by  the  setting-pole  in 
midstream.  It  contained  a  white  man,  who  leaned  on  the 
setting-pole,  silently  awaiting  the  result  of  the  conference  on 
the  bank  above. 

The  conference  ended  abruptly ;  I  saw  two  of  the  men  start 
south  towards  Fort  Pitt,  while  Butler  came  hastily  down  to* 
the  water's  edge  a-nd  waded  out  to  the  canoe. 

He  boarded  the  frail  craft  from  the  bow,  straddling  it 
skilfully  and  working  his  way  to  his  place.  Then  the  two 
setting-poles  flashed  in  the  sunshine  and  the  canoe  shot  out 
of  sight. 

My  mind  was  working  rapidly  now,  but,  at  first,  anger  suc 
ceeded  blank  perplexity.  What  did  Captain  Butler  mean  by 
following  me  through  the  forests  ?  The  answer  came  ere  the 
question  had  been  fully  formed,  and  I  knew  he  hated  me  and 
meant  to  kill  me. 

How  he  had  learned  of  my  mission,  whether  he  had  actually 
learned  of  it,  or  only  suspected  it  from  my  disappearance, 
concerned  me  little.  These  things  were  certain :  he  was  Lord 
Dunmore's  emissary  as  I  was  the  emissary  of  Sir  William; 
he  was  bound  for  Cresap's  camp  as  was  I;  and  he  intended 
to  intercept  me  and  kill  me  if  that  meant  the  winning  of 
the  race.  Ay,  he  meant  to  kill  me,  anyhow,  for  how  could  he 
ever  again  appear  in  Johnstown  if  I  lived  to  bear  witness  to 
his  treachery1^ 

I  must  give  up  my  visit  to  the  Cayugas  for  the  present,  It 

135 


CARDIGAN 

was  to  be  a  race  now  to  Cresap's  camp,  and,  though  they  had 
their  canoe  to  speed  withal,  the  advantage  lay  on  my  side; 
for  I  was  seeking  no  man's  life,  whereas  they  must  soon  find 
that  they  had  over-run  their  scent  and  would  spend  precious 
time  in  ambushes.  Besides,  they  doubtless  believed  that 
somewhere  I  had  a  canoe  hid,  and  that  would  keep  them 
hanging  around  the  carry-trails  while  I  made  time  by  circling 
them. 

One  thing  disturbed  me:  two  of  them  had  gone  by  water 
and  two  by  the  Fort  Pitt  trail,  and  this  threw  me  hopelessly 
into  the  wilderness  without  the  ease  of  a  trodden  way. 

Slowly  I  resumed  my  pack,  reprimed  my  rifle,  and  turned 
my  nose  southward,  bearing  far  enough  west  to  keep  out  of 
earshot  from  the  river  and  the  trail. 

At  first  I  had  looked  upon  Fort  Pitt  as  a  hospitable  way 
side  refuge,  marking  nine-tenths  of  my  journey  towards 
Cresap's  camp.  But  now  I  dared  not  present  myself  there, 
with  Walter  Butler  hot  on  my  trail,  armed  not  only  with 
hatchet  and  rifle,  but  also  doubtless  with  some  order  of  Lord 
Dunmore  which  might  compel  the  officers  at  Fort  Pitt  to 
hand  me  over  to  Butler  on  his  mere  demand. 

For,  although  Fort  Pitt  was  rightfully  on  Pennsylvania 
soil,  it  had  long  been  claimed  by  Virginia,  and  it  was  a  Vir 
ginia  garrison  that  now  held  it.  Thus,  should  I  stop  there,  I 
should  be  under  the  laws  of  Virginia  and  under  the  claw- 
thumb  of  Dunmore  or  anybody  who  might  claim  authority  to 
represent  him. 

There  is,  I  have  been  told,  a  vast  region  which  lies  between 
the  Alleghany  Mountains  and  the  Mississippi,  a  desolate 
wilderness  save  for  a  few  British  garrisons  at  Natchez,  at 
Vincennes,  and  at  Detroit.  These  troops  are  placed  there  in 
order  to  establish  the  claim  of  our  King  to  the  region  lately 
wrested  from  the  French.  Fort  Pitt  commanded  the  gateway 
to  this  wilderness,  and  the  Ohio  flowed  through  it;  and  for 
years  Virginia  and  Pennsylvania  had  disputed  for  the  right 
to  control  this  gateway.  Virginia  held  it  by  might,  not  right. 
Through  it  Daniel  Boone  had  gone  some  years  before;  now 
Cresap  had  followed;  and  who  could  doubt  that  the  Governor 
of  Virginia  had  urged  him  on? 

But  the  march  of  Cresap  not  only  disturbed  Sir  William 

136 


CARDIGAN 

in  his  stewardship;  it  angered  all  Pennsylvania,  and  this  is 
the  reason : 

The  Virginians  under  Cresap  went  to  settle,  and  to  keep 
the  Indians  at  a  distance;  the  Pennsylvanians,  on  the  other 
hand,  went  only  to  trade  with  the  Cayugas,  and  they  were 
furious  to  see  Cresap's  men  spoil  their  trade.  This  I  learned 
from  Sir  William  on  our  evening  walks  about  Quider's  hut; 
and  I  learned,  too,  that  Fort  Pitt  was  a  Virginia  fortress  on 
Pennsylvania  soil,  guarded  not  only  against  the  savages,  but 
also  against  the  Pennsylvanians,  who  traded  powder  and  shot 
and  rifles  with  the  Cayugas,  and  thus,  according  to  my  Lord 
Dunmore  practically  incited  the  savages  to  resist  such  phi 
lanthropists  as  himself. 

Clearly  then,  no  emissary  of  Sir  William  would  be  wel 
comed  at  Pittsburg  fortress  or  town;  and  I  saw  nothing  for 
it  but  to  push  on  through  the  gateway  of  the  west,  avoiding 
Butler's  men  as  best  I  could,  and  seeking  the  silly,  deluded 
Cresap  under  the  very  nose  of  my  Lord  Dunmore. 

My  progress  was  slow;  at  times  I  sank  between  tree-roots, 
up  to  the  thighs  in  moss;  at  times  the  little  maidens  of  the 
flowering  briers  bade  me  tarry  in  their  sharp,  perfumed  em 
brace.  Now  it  was  a  wiry  moose-bush  snare  that  enlaced  my 
ankles  and  sent  me  sprawling,  pack  and  all;  now  the  tough 
laurel  bound  me  to  the  shoulders  in  slender  ropes  of  blossoms 
which  only  my  knife  could  sever.  Tired  out  while  yet  the 
sun  sent  its  reddening  western  rays  deep  into  the  forest,  I 
knelt  again,  dropped  my  pack  under  a  hemlock  thicket,  and 
crawled  out  to  a  heap  of  rocks  which  overhung  a  ravine. 

The  sunlight  fell  full  in  my  face  and  warmed  my  body 
as  I  crept  through  a  mat  of  blueberry  bushes  and  peered  over 
the  edge  of  the  crag  down  into  the  ravine. 

A  hundred  feet  below  the  Alleghany  flowed,  a  glassy  stream 
tinted  with  gold,  reflecting  forest  and  cliff  and  a  tiny  tri 
angle  of  cobalt  sky.  Its  surface  was  a  mirror  without  a  flaw, 
save  where  a  solitary  wild-duck  floated,  trailing  a  rippled 
wake,  or  steered  hither  and  thither,  craning  its  green  neck 
after  water-flies  and  gnats. 

How  still  it  was  below;  how  quiet  the  whole  world  was — 
quieter  for  the  hushed  rumour  of  the  winds  on  some  far 
mountain  spur. 

137 


CARDIGAN 

The  little  blue  caps  which  every  baby  peak  had  worn  all 
day  were  now  changed  for  night-caps  of  palest  rose;  the 
wild  plum's  bloom  dusted  every  velvet  mountain  flank,  the 
forest  was  robed  in  flowing  purple  to  its  roots,  which  the  still 
river  washed  in  sands  of  gold. 

Below  me  a  brown  hawk  wheeled,  rising  in  narrowing 
spirals  like  a  wind-blown  leaf,  higher,  higher,  till  of  a  sud 
den  its  bright  eye  flashed  level  with  mine  and  it  sheered 
westward  with  a  rush  of  whistling  feathers.  I  watched  it 
drifting  away  under  the  clouds  into  the  sunset,  with  a  silly 
prayer  that  wings  might  be  fastened  to  my  tired  feet,  as 
Minnomonedo,  leaning  out  from  the  centre  of  heaven,  dipped 
the  first  bird  in  Mon-o-ma,  the  Spirit  Water,  which  was  also 
I-os-co,  the  Water  of  Light.  "  Te-i-o!  Te-i-ol"  I  murmured, 
"  On-ti-o — I-e-nia,  oh,  Mon-d-Jcee!" 

For  God  knows — and  forgives — that,  at  sixteen,  I  was  but 
an  Algonquin  in  superstition,  fearing  Minnomonedo  and 
seeking  refuge  in  that  God  whom  I  did  not  dread. 

In  towns  and  cities  the  savage  legends  which  I  had  im 
bibed  with  my  first  milk  vanished  from  my  mind  completely, 
leaving  no  barriers  to  a  calm  worship  of  the  Most  High.  But 
in  the  woods  it  was  different;  every  leaf,  every  blossom  repre 
sented  links  in  those  interminable  chains  of  legends  with 
which  I  had  been  nourished,  and  from  which  nothing  but 
death  can  entirely  wean  me. 

To  me,  the  birds  that  passed,  the  shy,  furry  creatures  that 
slipped  back  into  the  demi-light,  the  insects,  the  rocks,  water, 
clouds,  sun,  moon,  and  stars  were  comrades  with  names  and 
histories  and  purposes,  exercising  influences  on  each  other 
and  on  me,  and  calling  for  an  individual  and  intimate  recog 
nition  which  I  cared  not  to  disregard  in  the  forest,  though  I 
might  safely  forget  them  amid  the  crowded  wastes  of  civiliza 
tion. 

I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  I  credited  the  existence  of  such 
creatures  as  the  wampum  bird,  nor  did  I  believe  that  the  first 
belt  was  made  of  a  quill  dropped  to  earth  from  the  fearsome 
thing.  This  was  nonsense ;  even  at  night  I  dared  mock  at  it. 
But  still  every  human  being  knows  that,  in  the  midnight 
wilderness,  strange  things  do  pass  which  no  man  can  ex 
plain — strange  beasts  move,  strange  shapes  dance  by  elf-fires, 

138 


CAKDIGAN 

and  trees  talk  aloud,  one  to  another.  If  this  be  witchcraft, 
or  if  it  be  but  part  of  a  life  which  our  vast  black  forests  hide 
forever  from  the  sun,  I  know  not.  Sir  William  holds  that 
there  are  no  witches,  yet  I  once  heard  him  curse  a  Huron 
hag  for  drying  up  his  Devon  cattle  with  a  charm.  We 
Christians  know  that  a  red  belt  lies  ever  between  God  and 
Satan.  And  I,  as  a  woodsman,  also  know  that,  if  there  be 
demons  in  Biskoona,  a  thousand  bloody  belts  lie  for  all  time 
twixt  Minno  and  Mudjee,  call  them  what  you  will,  and  their 
voices  are  in  the  passing  thunder  and  in  the  noises  of  the 
eight  great  winds. 

Sprawling  there  on  the  warm  rocks  like  a  young  panther 
in  the  sun,  ears  attuned  to  the  faintest  whisper  of  danger,  I 
gnawed  a  strip  of  dried  squirrel's  flesh  and  sucked  up  the 
water  from  a  dripping  mossy  cleft,  sweet  cheer  to  an  empty 
belly. 

As  for  fire,  that  was  denied  me  by  my  sense,  though  I  knew 
that  the  coming  night  would  stiffen  me.  But  I  cared  little 
for  that :  what  occupied  my  thoughts  was  how  to  obtain  food 
when  a  single  shot  might  bring  Butler  and  his  trackers  hot 
on  the  scent  ere  the  rifle  smoke  had  blown  clear  of  the  trees. 

It  was  not  always  that  one  might  knock  down  a  stupid 
partridge  with  a  stick,  nor  yet  were  there  trout  in  every 
water-crack.  I  looked  down  at  the  darkening  river,  where 
the  wild  mallard  still  circled  and  darted  its  neck  after  un 
seen  midges;  and  my  mouth  watered,  for  he  was  passing 
plump,  this  Southern  lingerer,  fresh  from  the  great  gulf. 

"  If  he  be  there  in  the  morning,"  thought  I,  "  perhaps  I 
may  risk  a  shot  and  take  to  my  heels."  For  had  I  not 
thrown  Butler  and  his  crew  from  my  trail  as  easily  as  I  brush 
a  bunch  of  deer-flies  from  my  hunting-shirt  ?  And  if  I  could 
do  it  once,  I  could  repeat  the  trick  in  a  dozen  pretty  ways  of 
my  own  knowledge  and  of  Thayendanegea's  invention.  Still 
I  knew  he  was  no  forest  blunderer,  this  Butler  man;  he  had 
proved  that  in  the  Canadas;  and  I  did  not  mean  to  be  over 
confident  nor  to  rock  caution  to  sleep  in  my  first  triumph. 

And  Lord ! — how  I  hated  him  and  wished  him  evil,  waking, 
sleeping,  in  sickness  and  in  health,  ay,  living  or  dead,  I  wish 
ed  him  evil  and  black  mischance  on  his  dark  soul's  flight  to 
the  last  accounting.  So,  with  thoughts  of  hatred  and  revenge, 

139 


CARDIGAN 

I  saw  the  cinders  of  the  sun  go  out  behind  the  forest  and  the 
web  of  night  settling  over  the  world.  Wrapped  in  my  blanket, 
curled  up  in  a  bed  of  blueberry,  I  folded  my  hands  over  my 
body  like  a  chipmunk  and  said  a  prayer  to  the  God  whom  I 
did  not  fear.  After  that  I  reprimed  my  rifle,  covering  flint 
and  pan  to  keep  out  the  dew,  settled  the  stock  in  a  crevice 
near  my  head,  and  lay  down  again  to  watch  for  the  full 
moon,  whose  yellow  light  was  already  soaring  up  behind  a 
black  peak  in  the  east.  And  all  night  long  I  lay  on  that 
borderland  of  sleep  which  men  in  danger  dare  not  traverse 
lest  a  sound  find  them  unready.  Slumbering,  again  and  again 
I  saw  the  moon  through  slitted  lids,  yet  I  rested  and  slept 
a  sweet  wholesome  sleep  which  renewed  my  vigour  by  its  very 
lightness. 

Long  before  the  sun  had  done  painting  the  sky-scenes  for 
his  royal  entry,  I  had  brushed  the  dew  from  cap  and  blanket, 
primed  my  rifle  afresh,  and  cautiously  crawled  to  the  cliff's 
brink. 

Mist  covered  the  river;  I  could  not  have  seen  a  canoe  had 
it  been  floating  under  my  own  crag;  neither  could  I  see  my 
wild  duck,  though  at  times  I  heard  his  drowsy  quack  some 
where  below,  and  the  answering  quack  of  his  mate,  now  re 
joining  her  lord  and  master.  Perhaps  a  whole  flock  had  come 
in  by  night. 

Now,  the  intense  stillness  of  early  morn  did  not  reassure 
me,  nor  did  the  careless  quacking  of  the  ducks  convince  me 
that  the  river  and  shore  were  untenanted  save  for  them. 
Many  a  drowsing  mallard  has  been  caught  by  a  lean  fox  or 
knocked  on  the  head  with  a  paddle.  I  had  no  mind  to  creep 
down  and  risk  a  shot  at  a  shadow  on  the  misty  water,  not 
knowing  what  else  that  mist  might  conceal.  However,  I  was 
fiercely  hungry,  and  I  meant  to  have  a  duck.  So,  shivering, 
I  undressed,  and,  stark  naked,  I  picked  my  way  down  the 
clefts  to  the  base  of  the  cliff  and  slipped  into  the  water  like 
a  mink. 

The  water  was  warmer  than  the  air;  I  swam  without  a 
splash,  straight  towards  the  quacking  sound,  seeing  nothing 
but  the  blank  fog  as  yet,  but  meaning  to  seize  the  first  duck 
by  the  legs  if  he  were  asleep,  or  by  his  neck  if  he  dived. 

Now,  although  I  made  no  sound  in  the  water,  all  around 

140 


CARDIGAN 

me  I  felt  the  presence  of  live  creatures  stirring,  and  soon 
there  began  a  peevish  sound  of  half -awakened  water-fowl,  so 
that  I  knew  I  was  near  to  a  flock  of  them. 

Suddenly,  right  in  my  face,  a  duck  squawked  and  flapped ; 
I  grasped  at  the  bird,  but  held  only  a  fistful  o'  feathers.  In  an 
instant  the  mist  around  me  rang  with  strong  wings  beating 
the  water,  and  with  a  whistling  roar  the  flock  drove  past, 
dashing  me  with  spray  till  I,  smothered  and  choked,  flung  up 
my  arm  towards  a  floating  tree-trunk.  To  my  horror  the  log 
rolled  completely  over,  and  out  of  it  two  men  fell,  shrieking, 
on  top  of  me,  for  the  log  I  had  grasped  was  a  bark  canoe,  and 
I  had  spilled  out  my  enemies  on  my  own  head. 

We  all  went  down,  but  I  sank  clear  of  the  unseen  men  and 
rose  again  to  swim  for  my  life.  They  came  to  the  surface 
behind  me ;  I  could  see  their  shadowy  heads  over  my  shoulder, 
for  the  mist  was  lifting. 

They  were  shouting  now,  evidently  to  others  on  the  oppo 
site  bank,  but  my  way  led  not  thither,  and  I  swam  swiftly 
for  the  foot  of  my  cliff,  missing  it  again  and  again  in  the 
fog,  until  I  found  it  at  last,  and  ran  panting  and  dripping  up 
the  cleft. 

When  I  reached  my  rifle  I  leaned  over  the  crag  to  look,  but 
the  river  gorge  remained  choked  with  vapour,  though  here 
above  all  was  bright  gray  dawn.  The  shouting  below  came 
clearly  to  my  ears,  also  the  splashing.  I  judged  that  the 
two  men  had  thrown  their  arms  over  the  capsized  canoe,  and 
thus,  hands  clasped,  were  making  out  to  keep  afloat;  for  in 
this  manner  only  can  a  capsized  canoe  serve  two  men. 

Drying  my  bruised  feet  and  dripping  skin  in  my  blanket,  I 
hastened  to  dress  and  strap  on  my  pack,  keeping  a  restless 
eye  on  the  gulf  below.  When  I  was  prepared,  the  sun,  push 
ing  up  behind  the  peaks  in  the  east,  was  already  scattering 
the  mist  into  long,  thin  clouds,  and  at  intervals  I  made  out 
the  canoe  floating  bottom  up,  close  inshore,  and  I  heard  the 
wrecked  men  paddling  with  their  hands. 

Presently  Walter  Butler's  voice  sounded  from  the  bank, 
cautioning  the  swimming  men  to  proceed  slowly,  and  inquir 
ing  what  was  the  cause  for  their  upsetting. 

They  replied  that  a  deer,  swimming  the  river,  had  planted 
one  foot  in  their  bow  while  they  slept,  and  so  overturned  the 

141 


CAKDIGAN 

canoe.  But  I  knew  that  Walter  Butler  would  not  be  long  in 
discovering  the  tracks  of  my  naked  feet  in  the  shore-sands 
where  I  had  landed  while  searching  for  my  cliff,  so  I  pre 
pared  to  leave  without  further  ado,  though  angrily  tempted 
to  make  a  target  of  the  phantom  group  below. 

So,  with  a  stomach  stayed  with  a  mouthful  of  corn  and 
water,  I  started  silently  westward,  meaning  to  make  a  circle, 
and,  hiding  my  tracks,  recross  the  river  to  take  advantage  of 
their  sure  pursuit  by  travelling  on  the  Fort  Pitt  trail  until 
again  hunted  into  the  forest. 

Munching  my  corn  as  I  plodded  on,  I  still  kept  a  keen  look 
out  behind,  though  in  the  forest  one  can  seldom  see  but  a 
rod  or  two,  and  sometimes  not  even  a  yard  except  down  the 
vista  of  some  woodland  stream. 

It  was  useless  to  attempt  to  cover  my  tracks,  for  I  could 
neither  avoid  breaking  branches  in  the  tangle,  nor  keep  from 
leaving  foot-prints  on  the  soft  moss  which  even  a  Boston 
schoolmaster  might  read  a-running.  But  I  could  trot  along 
the  tops  of  fallen  logs  like  a  partridge,  and  use  every  water 
course  that  wound  my  way,  so  breaking  my  trail  for  all  save 
a  hound  or  an  Indian.  And  this  I  did  to  check  the  pursuit 
which  I  knew  must  begin  sooner  or  later. 

It  began  even  sooner  than  I  expected,  and  almost  caught 
me  napping,  for,  resting  a  moment  to  scrutinize  a  broad 
stretch  of  barren  ground,  around  which  I  had  just  circled  in 
order  to  keep  cover,  I  saw  a  man  creeping  among  the  rocks 
and  berry-scrub,  doubtless  nosing  about  for  my  trail.  A 
moment  later  another  man  moved  on  the  eastern  edge  of  the 
mountain  flank,  and  at  the  same  time,  far  up  the  river,  I 
saw  the  canoe  floating. 

That  was  enough  for  me,  and  I  started  on  a  dog-trot  down 
the  slope  and  along  the  river-bed,  plunging  through  willows 
and  alders  till  I  came  to  a  bend  from  which  the  naked 
shoulder  of  the  mountain  could  not  be  seen. 

Thayendanegea  had  taught  me  to  do  what  people  thought 
I  would  be  likely  to  do,  but  to  accomplish  it  so  craftily  that 
they  would  presently  think  I  had  done  something  else. 

When  at  length  those  who  pursued  me  should  find  my  trail 
on  the  southern  border  of  the  open  scrub-land,  they  would 
have  no  difficulty  in  following  me  down  the  long  incline  to 

142 


CARDIGAN 

the  river  where  I  now  stood,  ankle-deep  in  icy  water.  I  had 
halted  exactly  opposite  to  the  mouth  of  a  rocky  stream,  and 
it  was  natural  that  I  should  ford  the  rapids  here  and  con 
tinue,  on  the  other  bank,  up  that  stream  to  hide  my  trail. 
They  would  expect  me  to  do  it,  so  this  I  did,  and  ran  up  the 
bed  of  the  stream  for  a  few  rods,  carelessly  leaving  a  tiny 
dust  line  of  corn-meal  on  the  rocks  as  though  in  my  headlong 
flight  my  sack  had  started  a  seam. 

Then  I  turned  around  and  waded  down  the  brook  again  to 
the  river,  out  to  the  shallow  rapids,  and  so,  knee-deep,  hasten 
ed  southward  again  to  put  the  next  bend  between  me  and 
the  canoe. 

I  was  making  but  slow  progress,  for  my  sack  galled  me, 
the  slippery,  wet  buckskin  leggings  chafed  knee  and  ankle 
raw,  and  my  soaked  hunting-shirt  glued  its  skirts  to  my 
thighs,  impeding  me  at  every  stride.  My  drenched  moccasins 
also  left  wet  tracks  on  the  Fort  Pitt  trail,  which  I  knew  the 
sun  could  not  dry  out  for  hours  yet;  but  I  did  not  believe 
that  Butler  and  his  crew  would  come  up  in  time  to  see 
them. 

I  was  mistaken;  scarcely  half  an  hour  had  passed  ere  their 
accursed  canoe  appeared  bobbing  down  the  rapids,  paddles 
flashing  in  the  sun ;  and  I  took  to  the  forest  again  at  a  lively 
gait,  somewhat  disturbed,  though  my  self-confidence  per 
mitted  no  actual  anxiety  to  assail  me. 

I  now  played  them  one  of  Brant's  tricks,  which  was  to 
change  moccasins  for  a  brand-new  pair  of  larger  size,  and 
soled  with  ridged  bear-hide.  I  also  reversed  them,  toe  point 
ing  to  the  rear,  and  they  made  a  fine  mark  on  the  moss. 

Every  twenty  paces  I  stooped  to  brush  up  the  pile  of  the 
velvet  moss  and  so  obliterate  my  tracks  for  the  next  twenty 
paces. 

In  this  manner  I  travelled  for  three  hours  without  sign  of 
pursuit,  and  had  it  not  been  for  my  pack  I  could  have  jogged 
on  till  night.  But  my  galled  shoulders  creaked  for  mercy, 
and  I  struggled  out  once  more  into  the  Fort  Pitt  trail  and 
stood  panting  and  alert,  drenched  with  sweat. 

The  trail  had  been  trodden  within  the  hour;  I  saw  fresh 
sign  of  two  different  moccasins,  and  of  a  coarse  boot  of 
foreign  style,  all  pointing  southward.  The  moccasins  were 

143 


CAKDIGAN 

like  one  pair  I  had  in  my  pack,  of  Albany  make ;  the  wearei 
of  the  boots  toed  in.  These  things  I  noticed  quicker  than  I 
could  relate  them,  and  instinctively  I  changed  my  moccasins 
for  the  third  time,  and  ran  on,  stepping  carefully  in  the 
tracks  of  him  who  wore  the  Albany  moccasins,  and  keeping 
a  sharp  eye  ahead. 

I  had  run  nearly  half  a  mile,  and  was  beginning  to  look 
about  for  a  vantage  spot  to  rest  on,  when  a  turn  in  the  trail 
brought  me  out  along  the  river. 

I  scanned  the  stream  thoroughly,  and  discovered  nothing 
to  balk  at,  but  I  could  not  see  the  opposite  bank  very  plainly 
because  the  forest  rose  from  the  water's  edge,  and  all  was 
dusky  where  the  low-arched  branches  screened  the  shore. 

Under  this  a  canoe  might  lie,  or  might  not;  there  was  no 
means  of  telling.  I  sniffed  at  the  dusky  screen  of  leaves,  but 
had  my  sniffing  for  my  trouble,  as  nothing  moved  there. 

It  was  clear  I  could  not  remain  in  the  Fort  Pitt  trail  with 
at  least  two  of  the  Butler  crew  behind  me.  Should  I  take  to 
the  tangled  forest  again?  My  shoulders  begged  me  not  to, 
but  my  senses  jogged  me  to  the  prudent  course.  However, 
at  certain  times  in  men's  careers,  when  body  and  mind 
clamour  for  different  answers,  a  moment  comes,  even  to  the 
most  cautious,  when  a  risk  smacks  as  sweet  as  a  banquet. 

One  of  those  moments  was  coming  now;  I  knew  the  risk 
of  traversing  that  open  bit  of  trail,  but  the  hazard  had  a  winy 
flavour  withal,  and  besides  it  was  such  a  few  feet  to  safety — 
such  a  little  risk.  And  I  trotted  out  on  the  open  trail. 

Instantly  a  shot  echoed  in  the  gorge,  and  the  pack  on  my 
back  jerked.  I  never  made  such  a  jump  in  all  my  life  before, 
for  I  had  cleared  the  open  like  a  scared  fawn,  and  now  stood 
glued  to  a  tree,  peering  at  the  blue  cloud  of  smoke  which 
trailed  along  the  opposite  shore. 

There  it  was ! — there  came  their  accursed  canoe  like  a  live 
creature  poking  its  painted  snout  out  of  the  leafy  screen,  and 
I  cocked  and  primed  my  rifle  and  waited. 

There  were  two  men  in  the  canoe;  one  paddled  gingerly, 
the  other  had  reloaded  his  rifle  and  was  now  squatting  in  the 
bow.  But  what  astonished  and  enraged  me  was  that  I  knew 
the  men,  Wraxall  the  barber,  and  Toby  Tice,  perfectly  well. 
They  were,  moreover,  tenants  of  Sir  William,  living  with 

344 


CARDIGAN 

their  families  in  Johnstown,  and  their  murderous  treachery 
horrified  me. 

I  had  never  shot  at  a  man ;  I  raised  my  rifle  and  held  them 
on  the  sights  for  a  moment,  but  there  was  no  fever  of  the 
chase  in  me  now,  only  a  heart-sick  horror  of  taking  a  neigh 
bour's  life. 

In  a  choked  and  shaky  voice  I  hailed  them,  warning  them 
back;  my  voice  gave  them  a  start,  for  I  believe  they  thought 
me  hard  hit. 

"  Go  back,  you  clowns !"  I  called.  "  Shame  on  you,  Toby 
Tice!  Shame  on  you,  Wraxall!  What  devil's  work  is  this? 
Are  you  turned  Huron  then  with  your  knives  and  hatchets 
and  your  Seneca  belts  ?  Swing  that  canoe,  I  say !  Au  large ! 
Au  large ! — or,  by  God,  I'll  drill  you  both  with  one  call !" 

Suddenly  Wraxall  fired.  Through  the  blue  cloud  I  saw 
Tice  sweep  au  large,  and  I  stepped  out  to  the  shore  and  shot 
a  ripping  hole  through  their  canoe  as  it  heeled. 

Wraxall  was  reloading  desperately;  Tice  started  to  send 
the  canoe  towards  me  once  more,  but  suddenly  catching 
sight  of  the  leaking  bottom,  dropped  on  his  knees  and  tried 
to  draw  the  ripped  flaps  together. 

Behind  my  tree  I  tore  a  cartridge  open,  rammed  in  a  palm- 
ful  of  buckshot,  primed,  and  fired,  tearing  the  whole  bow 
out  of  their  flimsy  bark  craft.  The  canoe  stood  up  like  a 
post,  stern  in  the  air,  and  Wraxall  lay  floundering,  while  Tice 
shrieked  and  fell  sprawling  into  the  river,  head  first,  like  a 
plunging  frog,  paddles,  poles,  and  rifle  following. 

They  were  swimming  my  way  now,  but  I  shouted  to  them 
to  sheer  off,  and  at  rifle  point  warned  them  across  the  river 
to  land  where  they  might  and  thank  God  I  had  not  driven 
them  to  the  bottom  with  an  ounce  of  buck. 

I  was  still  watching  them  to  see  they  landed  safely,  and 
had  half  turned  to  take  the  trail  again,  when,  almost  under 
my  feet,  a  human  hand  shot  up  above  the  river-bank  and 
seized  my  ankle,  tripping  me  flat.  The  next  moment  a  man 
leaped  up  from  the  shore  where  he  had  been  crouching,  but 
as  I  lay  on  my  back  I  gave  him  a  violent  kick  in  the  face 
and  rolled  over  out  of  reach.  Before  I  could  grasp  my  rifle, 
his  hatchet  flew,  pinning  one  flap  of  my  hunting-shirt  to  the 
ground;  and  I  wrenched  the  hatchet  free  and  hurled  it  back 
K  145 


CARDIGAN 

at  him,  so  that  the  flat  of  the  blade  smacked  his  face,  and  he 
dropped  into  the  water  with  a  scream. 

Shaking  all  over,  I  rose  and  lifted  my  rifle,  instinctively 
repriming.  But  the  sight  of  the  man  in  the  mud,  crawling 
about,  gasping  and  blowing  bloody  bubbles,  made  me  sick, 
and  the  next  moment  I  turned  tail  and  ran  like  a  rabbit. 

As  I  sped  down  the  trail,  over  my  shoulder  I  saw  Walter 
Butler,  planted  out  in  the  shoals  of  the  river,  taking  steady 
aim  at  me,  and  I  seized  a  tree  and  checked  my  course  as  his 
bullet  sang  past  my  face.  Then  I  ran  on,  setting  my  teeth 
and  vowing  to  repay  that  shot  when  my  life  was  my  own  to 
risk  again. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  I  turned  once  more  from 
the  trail  and  limped  into  the  forest;  and  I  was  now  close 
enough  to  exhaustion  to  feel  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  a 
touch  of  that  desperation  which  makes  a  fury  out  of  a  cor 
nered  creature,  be  it  panther  or  mouse. 

For  I  had  not  been  able  to  shake  off  pursuit,  double  and 
twist  as  I  might.  They  were  distant,  it  is  true,  but  they 
plodded  tirelessly,  unerringly.  Again  and  again  I  saw  them 
on  the  rocks,  on  the  vast  arid  reaches  of  the  mountains, 
heads  down  to  the  trail,  jogging  along  with  horrid  patience. 

Once  I  doubled  on  them  so  close  that  I  could  see  one  of  the 
band  with  his  face  tied  up  in  a  rag,  doubtless  the  fellow  who 
had  tasted  of  his  own  toothsome  hatchet.  Walter  Butler  I 
•could  also  distinguish,  ever  in  the  lead,  rifle  trailing.  Only 
one  among  the  others  bore  a  rifle.  I  had  certainly  upset 
their  canoe  to  good  advantage.  But  now  I  began  to  repent  me 
that  I  had  not  shot  them  in  the  water  when  I  had  the  chance ; 
for  truly  I  was  in  a  sorry  condition  to  proceed  farther, 
through  forest  or  on  trail;  my  limbs  at  times  refused  their 
service,  and  a  twig  tripped  me  when  I  needs  must  leap  a  log. 

I  fired  my  first  long  shot  at  them  as  they  were  entering  a 
ravine  below  me,  and  I  missed,  for  my  hands  were  unsteady 
from  my  labouring  breath.  Yet  I  should  have  marked  a  deer 
where  I  pleased  at  that  range. 

This  shot,  however,  delayed  them,  and  they  now  advanced 
more  slowly  and  cautiously,  alert  for  another  ambush.  An 
hour  later  I  gave  them  a  second  shot.  My  aim  was  wavering ; 
my  bullet  only  made  one  man  duck  his  head.. 

146 


CARDIGAN 

I  was  fighting  for  time  now.  If  I  could  keep  on  until  dark 
I  had  no  fear  for  the  morrow.  To  tell  the  truth,  I  had  no 
actual  fear  then;  it  seemed  so  impossible  that  these  Johns 
town  yokels  really  meant  to  take  my  life,  even  if  they  caught 
me — this  ass  of  a  Toby  Tice  whom  I  had  tipped  for  holding 
my  stirrup  more  than  once.  And  Wraxall,  the  red-headed 
barber  sot,  who  had  shaved  me  in  the  guard-house !  How 
many  times  had  he  snatched  off  his  greasy  cap  to  me,  as  he 
loafed  in  tavern  doors,  sweating  malt  like  a  hop-vat ! 

But  the  nearness  of  Walter  Butler  was  a  very  different 
affair.  Even  when  I  was  but  a  toddling  child  at  Mistress 
Molly's  knee  the  sight  of  Walter  Butler  ever  sent  me  fear 
fully  hiding  behind  the  first  apron  I  could  snatch  at.  Year 
by  year  my  distrust  and  aversion  deepened,  until  I  had  come 
to  look  forward  serenely  to  that  mortal  struggle  between  us 
which  I  knew  must  come.  But  I  had  never  expected  it  to 
come  like  this. 

As  I  crept  once  more  into  the  forest  my  hatred  for  this 
man  gave  me  new  strength,  and  I  staggered  on,  searching  for 
a  vantage  coign  where  I  might  take  another  shot  at  the 
grotesque  crew.  Up  and  up  I  crawled,  faintly  alarmed  at  my 
increasing  weakness,  for  now,  when  a  vine  tripped  me,  I 
could  scarce  make  out  to  rise  again.  In  vain  I  whipped  and 
spurred  my  lagging  strength  with  stinging  memories  of  all 
the  scores  I  should  wipe  out  with  one  clean  bullet  through 
Butler's  head;  it  was  nigh  useless;  I  could  barely  move,  and 
how  was  I  to  shoot  with  my  brier-torn  hands  shaking  so  I 
could  neither  hold  them  still  nor  close  my  swollen  fingers  on 
the  trigger?  I  needed  rest;  an  hour  would  have  sufficed  to 
steady  the  palsy  of  exhaustion.  If  only  the  night  would  come 
quickly !  But  there  were  two  hours  of  daylight  yet,  two  long 
hours  of  light  in  which  to  track  my  every  step. 

I  caught  a  distant  glimpse  of  them  far  below  me,  searching 
the  ravine  and  river-bank.  How  they  had  been  lured  off  to 
the  river  I  know  not,  but  it  gave  me  a  brief  chance  for  breath, 
though  not  for  a  shot ;  and  I  rested  my  face  on  my  rifle-stock 
and  closed  my  eyes. 

I  had  been  kneeling  behind  a  granite  rock  in  a  bare  waste 
of  blueberry-scrub,  close  to  the  edge  of  the  woods;  and  pres 
ently  as  I  attempted  to  rise  I  fell  down,  and  began  to  claw 

147 


CARDIGAN 

around  like  a  blind  kitten.  Stand  up  I  could  not,  and  worst 
of  all,  I  had  little  inclination  to  attempt  it,  the  bed  of  rough 
bushes  was  so  soothing,  and  the  granite  rock  invited  my 
heavy  head.  All  over  me  a  sweet  numbness  tingled;  I  tried  to 
think,  I  strove  to  rouse.  In  vain  I  heard  a  sing-song  drows 
ing  in  my  ears :  "  They  will  kill  you !  They  will  kill  you !" 
but  there  was  no  terror  in  it.  What  would  it  be,  I  won 
dered — a  hatchet  ? — a  knife  at  the  throat  like  the  deer's  coup- 
de-grace?  Maybe  a  blow  with  a  rifle-stock.  What  did  I 
care  ?  Sleep  was  sweet. 

Then  a  quiver  swept  through  me  like  an  icy  wind;  with  a 
pang  I  remembered  my  mission  and  the  wampum  pledges, 
the  boast  and  the  vow  to  Sir  William.  Darkness  crowded 
me  down;  my  head  reeled,  yet  I  rose  again  to  my  knees, 
swaying  and  clutching  at  the  rock  which  I  could  barely  see. 
All  around  a  thick  night  seemed  to  hem  me  in;  I  groped 
through  a  chilly  void  for  my  rifle;  it  was  gone.  Panic- 
stricken  I  staggered  up,  drenched  with  dew,  and  I  saw  the 
moon  staring  at  me  over  a  mountain's  ghostly  wall. 

Slowly  I  realized  that  I  had  slept;  that  death  had  passed 
me  where  I  lay  unconscious  in  the  open  moorland.  But  how 
far  had  death  gone? — and  would  he  not  return  by  moon 
light,  stealthily,  casting  no  shadow?  Ay,  what  was  that 
under  the  tree  there,  that  shape  watching  me? — moving,  too, 
— a  man ! 

As  I  shrank  back  my  heel  struck  my  rifle.  In  an  instant  I 
was  down  behind  the  rock  to  prime  with  dry  powder,  but  to 
my  horror  I  found  flint  missing,  charge  drawn,  pan  raised, 
and  ramrod  sticking  helplessly  out  of  the  barrel.  The  shock 
stunned  me  for  a  moment;  then  I  snatched  at  knife  and 
hatchet  only  to  find  an  empty  belt  dangling  to  my  ankles. 

In  the  impulse  of  fury  and  despair,  I  crouched  flat  with 
clinched  fists,  trembling  for  a  spring;  and  at  the  same  instant 
a  tall  figure  rose  from  the  bushes  at  my  elbow,  laughing 
coolly. 

"  Greeting,  friend,"  he  said ;  "  God  save  our  country !" 

Speechless  and  dazed,  I  turned  to  face  him,  but  he  only 
leaned  quietly  on  a  long  rifle  and  pinched  his  chin  and 
chuckled. 

"  There  are  some  gentlemen  yonder  looking  for  you,  young 

148 


CARDIGAN 

man,"  he  said.    "  I  sent  them  south,  for  somehow  I  thought 
you  might  not  be  looking  for  them." 

Weakness  had  dulled  my  wits,  but  I  found  speech  presently 
to  ask  for  my  knife  and  hatchet. 

He  laid  his  head  on  one  side  and  contemplated  me  in 
mock  admiration. 

"  Now !  Now !  Let  us  go  slow,  friend,"  he  said.  "  Let  us 
converse  on  several  subjects  before  you  begin  bawling  for 
your  playthings.  In  the  first  place  your  manners  need  polish. 
I  said  to  you,  '  Greeting,  friend;  God  save  our  country!'  and 
you  make  me  no  polite  reply." 

Something  in  the  big  fellow's  impudence  and  careless 
good-humour  struck  me  as  familiar.  I  had  heard  that  voice 
before,  and  under  pleasant  circumstances,  it  seemed  to  me; 
somewhere  I  had  seen  him  standing  as  he  was  standing  now, 
in  his  stringy  buckskins  and  his  coon-skin  cap,  with  the 
fluffy  tail  falling  like  a  queue. 

"  If  you  please,"  I  said,  weakly,  "  give  me  my  hatchet  and 
knife  and  receive  my  thanks.  Come,  my  good  fellow,  you 
detain  me,  and  I  have  far  to  travel." 

"  Well,  of  all  impudence !"  he  sneered.  "  Wait  a  bit,  my 
young  cock  o'  the  woods.  I  don't  know  you  yet,  but  I  mean 
to  ere  you  go  out  strutting  o'  moonlight  nights." 

"  Will  you  give  me  my  hatchet  ?"  I  asked,  sharply,  edging 
towards  him. 

Before  the  words  left  my  lips  he  snatched  my  rifle  from  me 
and  stepped  back,  putting  the  rock  between  us. 

"  Now,"  he  said,  grimly,  "  you  come  into  camp  and  take 
supper  with  me,  or  I'll  knock  your  head  off  and  drag  you  in 
by  the  heels !" 

Aching  with  fatigue  and  mortification,  I  stood  there  so 
perfectly  helpless  that  the  great  oaf  fell  a-laughing  again, 
and,  with  a  shrug  of  good-humoured  contempt,  handed  me 
back  my  rifle  as  though  I  were  an  infant. 

"  Don't  grind  your  teeth  at  me,"  he  chuckled.  "  Come  to 
the  camp,  lad.  I  mean  no  harm  to  you.  If  I  did,  there's  men 
yonder  who'd  slit  your  pipes  for  the  pleasure,  I  warrant." 

He  took  a  step  up  the  slope,  looked  around  in  the  moon 
light  encouragingly,  then  -abruptly  returned  to  my  side  and 
passed  his  great  arm  around  me. 

149 


CAKDIGAN 

"  I'm  dog-tired,"  I  said,  weakly,  making  an  effort  to  walk ; 
but  my  knees  had  no  strength  in  them,  and  I  must  have  fallen 
except  for  his  support. 

Up,  up,  up  we  passed  through  the  foggy  moonlight,  he 
almost  dragging  me,  and  my  feet  a-trail  behind.  However, 
when  we  reached  the  plateau,  I  made  out  to  stumble  along 
with  his  aid,  though  I  let  him  relieve  me  of  my  rifle,  which 
he  shouldered  with  his  own. 

After  a  minute  or  two  I  smelled  the  camp-fire,  but  could 
not  see  it.  Even  in  the  darkest  night  a  fire  amid  great  trees 
is  not  visible  at  any  considerable  distance. 

My  big  companion,  striding  along  beside  me,  had  been  con 
stantly  muttering  under  his  breath,  and  presently  I  distin 
guished  the  words  he  was  singing : 

— "  One  shoe  off,  one  shoe  on, 

Diddle  diddle  dumpling,  my  son  John — " 

"  I  know  you,"  I  said,  abruptly. 

He  dropped  his  song  and  glanced  around  at  me. 

"  Oh,  you  do,  eh  ?  Well,  I  mean  to  know  you,  too,  so  don't 
worry,  young  man." 

"  I  won't,"  said  I,  scarcely  able  to  speak. 

Presently  I  saw  a  single  tree  in  the  darkness,  all  gleaming 
red,  and  in  a  moment  we  entered  a  ruddy  ring  of  light,  in  the 
centre  of  which  great  logs  burned  and  crackled  in  a  little  sea 
of  whistling  flames. 

I  was  prepared  to  encounter  the  other  coureur-de-bois,  and 
there  he  was,  ferret-face  peering  and  sniffing  at  us  as  we  ap 
proached.  However,  beyond  a  grunt,  he  paid  me  no  attention, 
and  presently  fell  to  stirring  something  in  a  camp-pot  which 
hung  from  cross-sticks  over  a  separate  bed  of  coals. 

There  was  a  third  figure  there,  seated  at  the  base  of  a 
gigantic  pine  tree;  a  little  Hebrew  man,  gathering  his  knees 
in  his  arms  and  peeping  up  at  me  with  watery,  red-rimmed 
eyes;  Saul  Shemuel! — though  I  was  too  weary  to  bother  my 
head  as  to  how  he  came  there.  As  I  passed  him  he  looked 
up,  but  he  did  not  appear  to  know  me,  though  he  came  every 
spring  to  Sir  William  for  his  peddling  license,  and  some 
times  sold  us  children  gaffs  and  ferret-muzzles  and  gilt  chains 
for  pet  dogs. 

150 


CARDIGAN 

He  bade  me  good-evening  in  an  uncertain  voice,  and  peered 
up  at  me  continually;  and  although  I  doubted  that  even  Sir 
William  could  have  recognized  me  now,  I  feared  this  Jew. 

The  big  man  brought  me  a  bowl  of  broth  and  spread  a 
blanket  for  me  close  to  the  blaze.  I  do  not  recollect  drinking 
the  broth,  but  I  must  have  done  so,  for  shortly  a  delicious 
warmth  enveloped  me  within  and  without,  and  that  is  the 
last  I  remembered  that  night. 


CHAPTER   X 

IT  was  still  dark  when  I  awoke;  the  fire  had  become  a 
pyramid  of  coals.     By  the  dull  glow  I  saw  two  figures 
moving;   one   of  them  presently   crossed   the   dim,   crimson 
circle  and  sat  down  beside  me,  fists  clasped  under  his  massive 
chin,  rifle  balanced  on  his  knees. 

"  I  am  awake,"  I  whispered.    "  Is  there  any  trouble  ?" 

Without  moving  a  muscle  of  his  huge  frame,  the  forest 
runner  said :  "  Don't  come  into  the  fire-ring.  There's  a  man 
been  prowling  yonder,  a-sniffing  our  fire,  for  the  last  four 
hours." 

I  drew  myself  farther  into  the  darkness,  looking  about  me, 
shivering  and  rubbing  my  stiffened  limbs. 

"  How  do  you  feel  ?"  he  asked,  without  turning  his  head. 

I  told  him  I  felt  rested,  and  thanked  him  so  earnestly  for 
his  great  kindness  to  me  that  he  began  to  laugh  and  chuckle 
all  to  himself  and  drag  his  great  chin  to  and  fro  across  his 
knuckles. 

"  Consider  yourself  fortunate,  eh  ?"  he  repeated,  rising  to 
come  into  the  thicket  and  squat  on  his  haunches  beside  me. 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  wondering  what  he  found  so  droll  in  the 
situation. 

"  Ever  hear  of  Catamount  Jack  ?"  he  inquired,  after  a 
moment. 

"  Yes ;  you  mean  Jack  Mount,  the  highwayman  ?  But  you 
are  mistaken;  the  man  who  follows  me  is  not  Jack  Mount," 
I  replied,  smiling. 

"Sure?" 

"  Oh  yes,"  I  said,  bitterly;  "  I  ought  to  know." 

"  What  do  you  know  about  Jack  Mount  ?"  he  asked. 

"I?  Nothing — that  is,  nothing  except  what  everybody 
knows." 

152 


CARDIGAN 

"Well,  what  does  Mister  Everybody  know?"  he  inquired, 
sneeringly. 

"  They  say  he  takes  the  King's  highway,"  I  replied. 
"  There's  a  book  about  him,  printed  in  Boston." 

"  With  a  gibbet  on  the  cover,"  interrupted  the  big  fellow, 
impatiently.  "  Oh,  I  know  all  that.  But  don't  they  say  he's 
a  rebel?" 

"  Why,  yes,"  I  replied ;  "  everybody  knows  he  set  fire  to 
the  King's  ship,  Gaspee,  and  started  the  rebels  a-pitching  tea 
overboard  from  Griffin's  Wharf." 

I  stopped  short  and  looked  at  him  in  amazement.  He  was 
Jack  Mount !  I  did  not  doubt  it  for  one  moment.  And  there 
was  the  famous  Weasel,  too — that  little,  shrivelled  comrade 
of  his! — both  corresponding  exactly  to  their  descriptions 
which  I  had  read  in  the  Boston  book,  ay,  read  to  Silver 
Heels,  while  her  gray  eyes  grew  rounder  and  rounder  at  the 
exploits  of  these  so-called  "  Minions  of  the  Moon." 

"  Well,"  asked  the  forest  runner,  with  a  chuckle,  "  do  you 
still  think  yourself  lucky  ?" 

I  managed  to  say  that  I  thought  I  was,  but  my  lack  of 
enthusiasm  sent  the  big  fellow  into  spasms  of  smothered 
laughter. 

"  Now,  now,  be  sensible,"  he  said.  "  You  know  youVe  a 
belt  full  of  gold,  a  string  of  good  wampum  in  your  sack,  and 
as  pretty  a  rifle  as  ever  I  saw.  And  you  still  think  yourself 
in  luck?  And  you're  supping  with  Jack  Mount?  And  the 
Weasel's  watching  everything  from  yonder  hazel-bunch  1 
And  Saul  Shemuel's  pretending  to  be  asleep  under  that  pine- 
tree?  Why,  Mr.  Cardigan,  you  amaze  me!"  he  lisped,  mock 
ingly. 

So  the  little  Hebrew  had  recognized  me  after  all.  I  swal 
lowed  a  lump  in  my  throat  and  rose  to  my  elbow.  With  Jack 
Mount  beside  me,  Walter  Butler  prowling  outside  the  fire- 
ring,  and  I  alone,  stripped  of  every  weapon,  what  in  Heaven's 
sight  was  left  for  me  to  do  ?  Truly,  I  had  jumped  into  that 
same  fire  which  burns  below  all  frying-pans,  and  presently 
must  begin  a-roasting,  too. 

"So  they  say  I  take  the  King's  highway,  ehF'  observed 
Mount,   twiddling  his   great   thumbs   over   his  ramrod 
digging  his  heels  into  the  pine-needles. 

153 


CAKDIGAN 

"  They  say  so,"  I  replied,  sullenly. 

He  burst  out  petulantly :  "  I  never  take  a  rebel  purse ! 
The  next  fool  you  hear  call  me  a  cut-purse,  tell  him  that  to 
stop  his  mouth  withal!"  And  he  fell  a-muttering  to  him 
self  :  "  King's  highway,  eh  ?  Not  mine,  not  his,  not  yours — 
oh  no ! — but  the  King's.  By  God !  I'd  like  to  meet  his  Maj 
esty  of  a  moonlight  on  this  same  highway  of  his !" 

He  turned  roughly  on  me,  demanding  what  brought  me  into 
the  forest ;  but  I  shook  my  head,  lips  obstinately  compressed. 

"  Won't  tell,  eh?"  he  growled. 

An  ugly  gleam  came  into  his  eyes,  but  died  out  again  as 
quickly;  and  he  shrugged  his  giant's  shoulders  and  spat  out 
a  quid  of  spruce-gum  he  had  been  chewing. 

"  One  thing's  plain  as  Shemuel's  nose  yonder,"  he  said, 
jerking  a  big  thumb  towards  the  sleeping  peddler ;  "  you're 
a  King's  man  if  I'm  a  King's  highwayman,  and  I'll  be  cursed 
if  you  go  free  without  a  better  accounting  than  a  wag  o' 
your  head !" 

Cade  Renard,  the  Weasel,  had  come  up  while  Mount  was 
speaking,  and  his  bright  little  eyes  gleamed  ruby  red  in  the 
fire-glow  as  he  scanned  me  warily  from  head  to  toe. 

"  What's  his  business  ?"  he  inquired  of  Mount.  "  I've 
searched  his  pack  again,  and  I  can't  find  anything  except 
the  wampum  belts." 

At  this  nai've  avowal  I  jumped  up  angrily,  forgetting  fear, 
demanding  to  know  by  what  right  he  dared  search  my  pack; 
but  the  impassive  Weasel  only  blinked  at  Mount  and  chewed 
a  birch-leaf  reflectively. 

"  What  is  he,  Jack  ?"  he  asked  again,  turning  towards  me, 
as  though  I  had  been  some  new  kind  of  bird. 

"  Don't  know,"  replied  Mount ;  "  not  worth  the  plucking, 
anyhow.  Take  his  wampum  belts,  all  the  same,"  he  added, 
with  a  terrific  yawn. 

"  If  you  are  a  patriot,"  I  said,  desperately,  "  you  will  leave 
me  my  belts  and  meddle  only  with  your  own  affairs." 

Both  men  turned  and  looked  at  me  curiously. 

"  You  are  no  patriot,"  said  Mount,  after  a  silence. 

"  Why  not  ?"  I  persisted. 

"  Ay — ay — why  and  why  not  ?"  yawned  Mount.  "  I  don't 
know,  if  you  won't  tell.  The  devil  take  you,  for  aught  I 

154 


CARDIGAN 

care !     But  you  won't  get  your  belts,"  he  added,  slyly,  watch 
ing  me  askance  to  note  the  effect  of  his  words. 

"  Why  not  ?"  I  repeated,  choking  down  my  despair. 

"  Because  you'll  talk  with  your  belts  to  some  of  these 
damned  Indians  hereabouts,"  he  grinned,  "  and  I  want  to 
know  what  you've  got  to  say  to  them  first." 

"  I  tell  you  that  my  belts  mean  no  harm  to  patriots !"  I  re 
peated,  firmly.  "  You  say  I  am  no  patriot.  I  deny  it ;  I  am 
a  better  patriot  than  you,  or  I  should  not  be  in  this  forest 
to-day!" 

"You  are  not  a  patriot,"  broke  in  Cade  Renard;  "you 
have  proved  it  already !" 

"  You  say  that,"  I  retorted,  "  because  Jack  Mount,  the  high 
wayman,  gives  me  the  Boston  greeting — '  God  save  our 
country!' — and  I  do  not  reply?  What  of  it?  I'm  at  least 
patriot  enough  not  to  pretend  to  be  one.  I  am  patriot 
enough  not  to  rob  my  own  counrymen.  I  can  say  *  God 
save  our  country !'  as  well  as  you,  and  I  do  say  it,  with  better 
grace  than  either  of  you !" 

The  men  exchanged  sullen  glances. 

"  That  password  is  not  fit  for  spies,"  said  Mount,  grimly. 

"  Spy  ?  You  take  me  for  a  spy  ?"  I  cried,  in  astonishment. 
"  Well,  if  you  are  the  famous  Jack  Mount,  you've  duller  wits 
than  people  believe." 

"  I've  wit  enough  left  to  keep  an  eye  on  you,"  he  roared, 
starting  towards  me;  but  the  Weasel  laid  his  little,  rough 
claw  on  the  giant's  arm,  and  at  the  same  moment  I  saw  a 
dark  figure  step  just  within  the  outer  fire-ring,  holding  up 
one  arm  as  a  sign  of  peace.  The  man  was  Walter  Butler.  I 
dropped  back  softly  into  the  shadow  of  the  thicket. 

Slowly  Jack  Mount  strolled  around  the  rim  of  the  fire- 
circle,  rifle  lying  in  the  hollow  of  his  left  arm.  He  halted  a 
few  paces  from  Butler  and  signed  for  him  to  remain  where 
he  stood.  There  was  no  mistaking  that  signal,  for  it  was  a 
Mohawk  sign,  and  both  men  understood  that  it  meant 
"  Move  and  I  shoot !" 

"Well,  Captain  Butler,"  he  drawled,  "what  can  I  do  for 
you?" 

"You  know  me,  sir?"  replied  Butler,  without  the  faintest 
trace  of  surprise  in  his  colourless  voice. 

155 


CARDIGAN 

"Ay,  we  all  know  you,"  replied  Mount,  quickly;  "even  in 
your  Iroquois  dress." 

"  May  I  inquire  your  name,  sir  ?"  asked  Butler,  with  that 
deathly  grimace  which  was  his  smile. 

"  You  may  inquire,  certainly  you  may  inquire,"  said 
Mount,  cordially.  "  You  may  inquire  of  my  old  friend,  the 
moon.  Gad,  she  knows  me  well,  Captain  Butler !" 

After  a  silence  Butler  said :  "  You  unintentionally  misled 
me  last  evening,  friend.  The  man  I  follow  did  not  cross  tho 
river  as  you  supposed." 

"  Really  ?"  cried  Mount,  smiling. 

There  came  another  silence,  then  Butler  spoke  again : 

"  I  am  here  on  business  of  my  Lord  Dunmore ;  I  am  here  to 
arrest  a  young  man  who  is  supposed  to  lie  hidden  in  your 
camp.  I  call  on  you,  sir,  whoever  you  are,  to  aid  me  in 
execution  of  the  law." 

"  The  law !  Gad,  she's  another  acquaintance  o'  mine,  the 
jade !"  said  Mount,  laughing.  "  I  suppose  you  bring  that 
pretty  valentine  of  hers — what  some  people  call  a  warrant — 
do  you  not,  Captain  Butler?" 

"  I  do,"  said  Butler,  moving  forward  and  holding  out  a 
paper.  Mount  took  it,  and,  while  he  read  it,  he  deliberately 
shoved  Butler  back  with  his  elbow  to  where  he  had  been 
standing,  crowded  him  back  before  his  huge,  outstretched 
arm,  coolly  scanning  the  warrant  the  while.  And  Butler 
could  not  avoid  the  giant  save  by  retreating,  step  by  step, 
beyond  the  dull  red  circle,  and  out  against  the  sky-line,  where 
a  bullet  could  scarcely  miss  him. 

Mount  was  now  contemplating  the  warrant  in  deep  ad 
miration.  He  held  it  out  at  arm's-length,  cocking  his  head 
on  one  side;  he  held  it  upside  down;  he  turned  it  over;  he 
scanned  it  sideways. 

"Oh,  Cade!"  he  called  out,  cheerily.  " 'Tis  the  same  old 
valentine!  Gad,  Captain  Butler,  we  have  seen  them  in 
every  one  o'  the  thirteen  colonies — my  friend  yonder,  and  I !" 

"  You  are  doubtless  a  sheriff,  sir,"  observed  Butler,  patiently. 

"No,"  said  Mount;  "  110,  not  exactly  what  you  could  call 
a  sheriff,  Captain  Butler;  but  I  have  had  much  business  with 
sheriffs.  I  owe  them  more  than  I  can  ever  repay,"  he  added, 
sentimentally. 

156 


CARDIGAN 

"  Then  you  will  understand,  sir,  the  necessity  of  aiding  the 
law,"  suggested  Butler,  holding  out  his  hand  for  the  warrant. 

But  Mount  quietly  pocketed  the  paper  and  began  to  whistle 
and  reprime  his  rifle. 

"  May  I  trouble  you  for  that  paper  ?"  asked  Butler,  with 
his  chilling,  sinister  politeness. 

There  was  a  pause.  Butler's  eyes  stole  around  the  camp- 
fire,  but  only  the  little  Hebrew  was  now  visible,  for  I  lay  in 
the  shadow  and  the  Weasel  had  ominously  vanished. 

"  You  do  not  mean  to  retain  this  warrant,  sir  ?"  demanded 
Butler,  raising  his  sneering  voice,  and  searching  the  thickets 
for  some  sign  of  the  ambushed  Weasel. 

"  Oh,  Captain  Butler,"  said  Mount,  with  a  gigantic  sim 
per,  "  how  can  I  resist  you  ?  Pray  tell  me  who  this  bad  young 
Michael  Cardigan  may  be,  and  what  he  has  done  to  get  his 
name  on  this  valentine?" 

"It  is  a  matter  of  treason,"  retorted  Butler,  sharply. 
"  Come,  my  good  man,  have  done  with  silly  chatter  and  aid 
me  to  my  duty  in  the  King's  name !" 

Mount  burst  into  a  shout  of  laughter.  "  That's  it !  In  the 
King's  name!  I've  heard  that,  too, — oh  yes,  I've  heard  that 
o'  moonlight  nights !" 

Butler  observed  him  in  astonishment,  but  Mount  held  his 
sides  and  roared  in  his  mirth :  "  Comes  friend  Butler  with 
his  warrant,  tripping  it  through  the  woods,  and  singing  of 
the  King  like  a  titmouse  on  a  stump.  Ay,  singing  to  me  to 
help  him  take  a  stout  fellow  in  the  King's  name !  Ha !  Ha ! 
Ha !  This  funny  Mr.  Sheriff  Butler !"  Then,  in  a  flash,  he 
wheeled  on  Butler,  snarling,  every  tooth  bared :  "  Damn 
you,  sir,  do  you  take  me  for  your  lackey  or  the  King's  hang 
man?  To  hell  with  you,  sir!  To  hell  with  your  King,  sir! 
Did  you  hear  me  ?  I  said,  to  hell  with  your  King !" 

Butler's  face  paled  in  the  waning  fire-light.  Presently  he 
said,  in  his  slow,  even  tones :  "  I  shall  take  care  that  your 
good  wishes  reach  the  King's  ears.  Pray,  sir,  honour  me  with 
your  name  and  quality,  though  I  may  perhaps  guess  both." 

"  No  need  to  guess,"  cut  in  the  big  fellow,  cheerfully.  "  I'm 
Jack  Mount;  I  burned  the  Gaspee,  I  helped  dump  his  Maj 
esty's  tea  into  Boston  harbour,  and  I  should  be  pleased  to  do 
as  much  for  the  King  himself.  Tell  him  so,  Captain  But- 

157 


CARDIGAN 

lor;  tell  my  Lord  Dunmore  he  can  have  a  ducking,  too,  at 
his  lordship's  polite  convenience." 

Butler  glared  at  him,  but  Mount  raised  his  coon-skin  cap 
and  bowed  mockingly.  "  Charmed,  sir,  charmed,"  he  sim 
pered.  "  Pray,  permit  me  to  present  my  comrade,  Sir  Cade 
Renard,  of  the  backwood  aristocracy,  sometimes  called  the 
Weasel.  He's  so  shy,  sir.  Friend  Weasel,  come  out  from  be 
hind  that  stump  and  bring  your  rifle;  step  up  beside  me  and 
make  a  very  fine  bow  to  his  Majesty's  deputy-sheriff.  Tell 
the  kind  gentleman  what  good  men  we  are,  Cade,  and  how 
proud  we  feel  to  entertain  him." 

The  Weasel  sauntered  up  and  performed  a  slow,  wriggling 
bow. 

"  Minions  of  the  moon,  sir,"  he  said ;  "  and  so  charmed  to 
receive  you,  or  anything  you  have  of  value.  Your  scalp,  now, 
might  bring  five  shillings  at  Baton  Rouge,  or  is  that  but  a 
scratch  wig  you  wear,  sir  ?" 

"  Will  you  deliver  me  my  warrant  and  my  prisoner  ?"  de 
manded  Butler,  with  a  ghastly  smile. 

"  No !"  said  Mount,  abruptly  changing  his  manner.  "  Make 
a  new  trail,  you  Tory  hangman !  March !"  And  he  gave  him 
a  prod  with  his  rifle. 

Never  had  I  seen  such  ferocity  expressed  on  any  human 
face  as  I  saw  now  on  Mr.  Butler's. 

He  backed  out  into  the  brush,  at  the  point  of  Mount's  long 
rifle;  then  the  red  fire-glow  left  him,  and  he  was  gone  into 
the  darkness  of  early  morning.  Presently  the  Weasel  stole 
after  him. 

Mount  came  swaggering  back,  pausing  to  drop  the  warrant 
on  the  hot  coals  as  he  passed.  Renard  returned  in  a  few 
minutes,  took  his  rifle,  and  squatted  briskly  down  just  be 
yond  the  fire-light. 

As  Mount  came  up  to  me,  I  rose  and  thanked  him  for  the 
protection  he  had  given  so  generously,  and  he  laughed  and 
laid  one  padded  fist  on  my  shoulder. 

"  Hark  ye,  friend,"  he  said ;  "  take  your  Indian  belts  and 
your  pack  and  go  in  peace,  for  if  Dunmore  is  after  you,  the 
sooner  you  start  north  the  better.  Go,  lad;  I'm  not  your 
enemy!" 

"  I  go  south,"  I  replied,  cautiously. 

158 


CAKDIGAN 

"  Oh,  you  do,  eh  ?"  said  Mount,  fumbling  in  his  pockets  for 
the  flint  he  had  taken  from  my  rifle.  "  Are  you  bound  for 
Cresap's  camp,  too?" 

"  Are  you  ?"  I  asked,  reddening. 

He  rubbed  his  chin,  watching  me  with  sulky  eyes. 

"  You  answer  ever  with  a  question !"  he  complained,  fret 
fully.  "I  ask  you  this  and  you  ask  me  that — torn  tiddle! 
tiddle  torn ! — and  I  be  no  wiser  now  for  all  I  have  heard  your 
name." 

"  I  know  Michael  Cardigan,"  observed  the  Weasel,  quietly 
coming  up,  buckling  on  his  pack. 

"  It's  an  honourable  name,"  I  began,  in  desperation,  striv 
ing  to  stop  him,  but  the  Weasel  ignored  me  and  addressed 
himself  to  Mount. 

"  He's  one  of  Sir  William  Johnson's  household.  That  ac 
counts  for  those  peace-belts  of  wampum.  Shemuel,  yonder, 
knows  the  lad." 

"  Oho !"  exclaimed  Mount,  staring  at  me.  "  So  you  come 
on  Sir  William's  business  to  the  Cayugas?  Ha!  Now  I 
begin  to  grasp  this  pretty  game.  Sir  William  wishes  his 
Cayugas  to  sit  tight  while  Cresap  builds  forts — " 

"Hush,  for  God's  sake!"  I  pleaded,  seeing  that  he  had 
guessed  all. 

"  Oh,  I'll  hush,"  he  replied,  eying  me  with  frank  curiosity. 
"  I  am  no  enemy  to  Sir  William.  A  fairer  and  more  honest 
gentleman  lives  not  in  these  colonies,  be  he  Tory  or  patriot ! 
Oh,  I'll  hush,  but  every  one  knows  Sir  William  will  not  have 
the  Indians  take  sides  in  this  same  war  that's  coming  so  fast 
upon  us.  It's  no  secret,  lad;  every  pot-house,  every  tavern 
tap-room  is  full  o'  gossip  that  Butler  means  to  rouse  the 
Indians  against  us,  and  that  Sir  William  will  not  have  it !" 

"  Since  when  have  you  come  from  Johnstown  ?"  I  asked, 
astonished. 

"  Oh,  a  week  after  you  left,"  replied  the  Weasel.  "  We  saw 
your  tracks,  but  we  went  another  way  after  the  first  week. 
You  lost  too  much  time." 

Mount  had  now  hoisted  his  pack  to  his  shoulders  and 
stood  watching  Shemuel,  the  Hebrew  peddler,  strapping  up 
his  dingy  boxes,  tucking  in  bits  of  lace  and  ribbon  and  cheap 
finery. 

159 


CARDIGAN 

"  Come  on,  Shemmy,  you  pigeon-toed  woodchuck !" 
growled  Mount,  cracking  a  fresh  lump  of  spruce-gum  in  his 
glistening  teeth. 

The  little  Jew  looked  up  at  me  slyly,  his  grimy  fists  buried 
in  the  bowels  of  his  gewgaws. 

"  Perhaps  the  gendleman  cares  to  look  at  som  goots  ?"  he 
observed,  interrogatively.  "  I  haff  chains,  buckles,  pins, 
needles,  buttons,  laces,  knifes,  ribbons  for  queue  and  gollar- 
ettes— " 

Mount,  with  the  toe  of  his  moccasin,  gently  reversed  Shem- 
uel  into  one  of  his  own  boxes,  then  warning  him  to  pack  up 
if  he  valued  his  scalp,  took  my  arm  in  friendly  fashion 
and  moved  out  into  the  gray  woods. 

"  Touching  this  mission  of  yours  to  the  Cayugas,"  he  said, 
frankly,  "  I  see  no  good  to  come  of  it,  and  I  say  this  with  all 
respect  to  Sir  William.  By-the-bye,  Sir  William  has  much  to 
trouble  him  these  days." 

"  I  know  that,"  said  I,  sadly. 

"  Oh  no,  you  don't,"  smiled  Mount.  "  There  have  been 
strange  doings  in  Johnstown  since  you  left :  a  change  has 
come  in  a  single  week,  lad;  neighbours  no  longer  speak;  the 
town  is  three  parts  Tory  to  one  part  patriot;  even  brothers 
hate  each  other.  Two  taverns  known  to  be  the  meeting- 
places  of  patriots  have  been  set  afire  and  shot  into;  and  old 
John  Butler  is  gone  north,  where,  they  say,  he  is  raising  a 
bloody  crew  of  cut-throats,  rangers,  half-breeds,  and  young 
Mohawks.  Sir  William  is  holding  long  talks  with  Brant  and 
Red  Jacket  at  the  upper  castle.  Oh,  the  sands  begin  to  run 
faster  now,  and  men  must  soon  take  one  side  or  t'other,  for 
there's  more  troops  going  to  Boston,  and  that  means  the  end 
of  King  George !" 

I  did  not  perhaps  realize  the  importance  of  all  he  said;  I 
had  seen  too  little  of  the  rebels  themselves  to  credit  the 
seriousness  of  the  situation.  But  here  was  an  opportunity  to 
sound  Mount  on  the  Cresap  affair,  and  I  began  earnestly. 

"  Can  you  not  see  that  Colonel  Cresap  is  driving  the  Ca 
yugas  into  the  King's  ranks?" 

"  What  do  we  care  for  the  Cayugas  ?"  replied  Mount,  con 
temptuously;  and  it  was  in  vain  I  wasted  argument  on  this 
man  who  had  been  born  a  woodsman,  but  who  knew  the 

160 


CARDIGAN 

savages  only  from  the  outside.  I  could  not  make  him  see 
the  foolish  uselessness  of  angering  the  Six  Nations.  He  was 
one  of  that  kind  who  detested  all  Indians,  who  professed  to 
hold  them  in  scorn,  and  who  had  passed  his  life  in  killing  all 
he  could. 

"  What  are  we  to  do  ?"  he  demanded,  sarcastically.  "  Give 
up  the  frontier  and  go  back  to  Virginia  with  tails  between 
our  legs?" 

"  Better  that  than  serve  as  silly  tools  for  Dunmore !"  I  re 
torted  hotly. 

"  Dunmore  I"  sneered  Mount.  "  We  his  tools,  when  the 
silly  ass  hasn't  wits  to  twiddle  his  own  thumbs  ?" 

"  Pie  had  the  wit  to  send  Butler  to  stop  me !"  I  answered, 
bitterly. 

Mount  began  to  grin  again  and  wink  his  eyes  slyly. 

"  Butler  came  for  something  else,  too,"  he  said.  "  Dun- 
more's  suite  travelled  south  the  day  you  left,  and  ought  to 
be  in  Fortress  Pitt  by  this  hour  to-morrow." 

"  What  of  it?"  I  asked. 

"  Ay,  that's  it,  you  see.  Since  you  left  Johnstown,  all  are 
talking  of  the  new  beauty  who  threw  over  Walter  Butler — 
what's  her  name — a  certain  Miss  Warren,  ward  of  Sir  Will 
iam;  and  it  is  commonly  reported  that  the  dispute  over  the 
Indians  and  the  quarrel  betwixt  Butler  and  Sir  William 
stopped  the  match." 

"  What  of  it !"  I  broke  out,  hoarsely. 

"  Only  that  this  beautiful  Miss  Warren  came  with  Lord 
Dunmore's  suite  to  Pittsburg,  and  Walter  Butler  has  openly 
boasted  he  will  marry  her  spite  of  Sir  William  or  the  devil 
himself.  And  here  is  the  lady — and  here  comes  her  rash 
gallant  tumbling  after  his  Jill!" 

To  hear  her  name  in  the  southern  wilderness,  to  hear  these 
things  in  this  place,  told  coarsely,  told  with  a  wink  and  a 
leer,  raised  such  a  black  fury  in  me  that  I  could  scarce  see 
the  man  before  me.  As  for  speaking,  my  throat  closed  and 
my  breast  heaved  as  though  to  burst  the  very  straps  on  my 
pack.  Oh,  that  I  had  killed  Butler !  I  clutched  my  rifle  and 
glared  into  the  gray  waste  of  misty  trees.  Somewhere  out 
there  that  devil  was  lurking;  and  when  I  had  fulfilled  my 
trust  I  would  seek  him  and  end  everything  for  good  and  all. 
L  161 


CARDIGAN 

"  Are  you  certain  that  Miss  Warren  is  already  in  Pitts- 
burg  ?"  I  managed  to  ask. 

"  We  saw  the  ladies  and  the  escort  a  week  since,"  said 
Mount.  "  The  trail  is  good  for  horses  below  Crown  Gap,  and 
they  were  well  mounted,  ay,  nobly  horsed,  ladies  and  troop 
ers,  by  Heaven!  Was  it  not  a  splendid  sight,  Cade?" 

"  Gay  and  godless,"  replied  the  Weasel,  buckling  the 
straps  on  his  pack  more  tightly  and  shifting  the  weight  with 
a  grunt.  "  Are  you  ready,  Jack  ?" 

Mount  looked  at  me. 

"  Join  us  and  welcome,"  he  said,  briefly.  "  It's  safer  than 
going  alone.  Our  friend,  Mr.  Sheriff  Butler,  will  be  watch 
ing  for  us,  and  we  mustn't  keep  the  gentleman  on  tenter 
hooks  too  long,  eh,  Cade  ?" 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Cade ;  and  we  moved  off  due  west, 
Mount  leading,  then  Shemuel  the  peddler,  then  I,  the  Weasel 
trotting  furtively  in  the  rear. 

At  times  the  little  peddler  twisted  his  greasy  neck  to  look 
back  at  me  with  an  inscrutable  expression  that  puzzled  me; 
but  he  said  nothing,  so  I  only  scowled  at  him,  meaning  to 
imply  my  disgust  at  his  treachery.  However,  as  we  strung 
out  through  the  forest,  I  quickened  my  pace  and  came  up 
beside  him,  saying,  "  It  was  not  very  wise  of  you,  Shemuel ; 
the  next  time  you  come  to  our  house  you  get  no  permit  to 
peddle." 

"  Ach !"  he  said,  spreading  his  fingers  in  deprecation, 
"  don'd  speag  aboud  it,  Mr.  Cardigan.  Sir  William  he  has 
giff  me  so  many  permids  mitout  a  shilling  to  pay.  Oh,  sir, 
he  iss  a  grand  gendleman,  Sir  William,  ain't  he?" 

"  What  made  you  betray  my  name  and  quality  then, 
Shemuel  ?"  I  asked,  curiously. 

His  small  eyes  sought  mine,  then  dropped  meekly,  as  he 
plodded  on  in  silence.  Xor  could  I  get  another  word  from 
him;  so  I  fell  back  into  my  place,  with  a  glance  at  the  sun, 
which  was  still  shining  directly  in  my  face. 

"  The  Fort  Pitt  trail  lies  west  by  south,"  I  suggested,  over 
my  shoulder,  to  the  Weasel. 

"  There's  a  shorter  cut  to  Cresap,"  he  replied,  cunningly. 

"  Shorter  than  the  Pitt  trail  ?"  I  asked,  astonished. 

"  Shorter  because  healthier,"  he  returned.  And,  answer- 

162 


CARDIGAN 

ing  my  puzzled  smile,  he  added,  "  A  long  life  on  a  long  trail, 
but  there's  ever  a  shorter  cut  to  the  gibbet !" 

Mount,  who  had  fallen  back  beside  us,  grinned  at  me  and 
rubbed  his  nose. 

"  Butler  will  be  sitting  up  like  a  bereaved  catamount  in 
the  Pitt  trail  for  us,"  he  said.  "  I've  no  powder  to  waste  on 
him  and  his  crew.  However,  Mr.  Cardigan,  if  you  want  to 
take  a  long  shot,  now's  your  chance  to  mark  their  hides." 

He  took  me  by  the  arm  and  led  me  cautiously  a  few  rods 
to  the  left,  then  crouched  down  and  parted  the  bushes  with 
his  hand.  We  were  kneeling  on  the  very  edge  of  a 
precipice  which  I  never  should  have  seen,  and  over  which  I 
certainly  should  have  walked  had  I  been  here  alone.  Deep 
down  below  us  the  Ohio  flowed,  a  dark,  slow  stream,  with 
jutting  rocks  on  the  eastern  bank  and  a  long  flat  sand-spit  on 
the  west. 

At  the  point  of  this  spit  a  man  was  standing,  leaning  on  a 
rifle.  It  was  not  Butler. 

"  There's  another  fellow  on  that  rock,"  whispered  Mount, 
pointing.  "  Butler  will  be  watching  the  slope  below  our 
camp." 

"  Let  him  watch  it,"  observed  the  Weasel ;  "  we'll  be  with 
Cresap  by  moon-rise !" 

"You  can  take  a  safe  shot  from  here,"  smiled  Mount, 
looking  around  at  me ;  "  but  it's  too  far  to  go  for  the  scalp." 

I  shook  my  head,  shuddering,  and  we  resumed  our  march, 
filing  away  into  the  west  in  perfect  silence  until  the  sun 
stood  in  mid-heaven  and  the  heated  air  under  the  great  pines 
drove  us  to  the  nearest  water,  which  I  had  been  sniffing  for 
some  time  past. 

Resting  there  to  drink,  I  looked  curiously  at  my  three  com 
panions.  Such  a  company  I  had  never  beheld.  There  wag 
the  notorious  Mount,  a  giant  in  stringy  buckskins,  with  a 
paw  like  a  bear  and  a  smooth,  boyish  face  cut  by  the  single,, 
heavy  crease  of  a  scar  below  the  right  eye.  With  his  regular 
features  and  indolent  movements,  he  appeared  to  me  like 
some  overgrown  village  oaf,  too  stupid  to  work,  too  lazy  to 
try. 

Beside  him  squatted  the  little  Jew,  toes  turned  in,  dirty 
thumbs  joined  pensively,  musing  in  his  red  beard.  His  boots 

163 


CARDIGAN 

had  left  the  foreign  mark  which  I  had  seen  the  day  before  in 
the  trail ;  the  Weasel's  moccasins  were  those  of  Albany  make. 

I  examined  the  Weasel.  Such  a  shrunken,  serene,  placid 
little  creature,  all  hunting-shirt  and  cap,  with  two  finely 
chiselled  flat  ears,  which  perhaps  gave  him  that  alert  allure, 
as  though  eternally  listening  to  some  sound  behind  his  back. 

But  the  mouths  of  these  three  men  were  curiously  well 
made,  bespeaking  a  certain  honesty  which  I  began  to  believe 
they  perhaps  possessed  after  all.  Even  Shemuel's  mouth, 
under  his  thin,  red  beard,  was  not  the  mouth  of  treachery, 
though  the  lips  were  shrewd  enough,  God  wot ! 

"  Well,"  cried  Mount,  suddenly,  "  wrhat  do  you  think  of 
us?" 

Somewhat  embarrassed,  I  replied  politely,  but  Mount  shook 
his  head. 

"  You  were  thinking,  what  a  row  of  gallows-birds  for  an 
honest  man  to  flock  with !  Eh  ?  Oh,  don't  deny  it.  You  can't 
hurt  my  feelings,  but  you  might  hurt  the  Weasel's — eh, 
Cade?" 

"  I  have  sensitive  feelings,"  said  the  Weasel,  dryly. 

"  I  think  you  all  stood  by  me  when  I  was  in  distress,"  said 
I.  "  I  ask  no  more  of  my  friends  than  that." 

"  Well,  you're  a  good  lad,"  said  Mount,  getting  to  his  feet" 
and  patting  my  shoulder  as  he  passed  me. 

"  Give  him  something  to  wreck  his  life  and  he'd  make  a 
rare  ranger,"  observed  the  Weasel. 

"Cade  was  in  love,"  explained  Mount,  soberly;  "weren't 
you,  Cade?" 

The  weazened  little  man  nodded  his  head  and  looked  up  at 
me  sentimentally. 

"  Yes,"  went  on  Mount,  "  Cade  was  in  love  and  got  mar 
ried.  His  wife  ran  away  somewheres — didn't  she,  Cade  ?" 

Again  the  little  creature  nodded,  looking  soberly  at  me 
for  sympathy. 

"  And  then,"  continued  Mount,  "  he  just  hunted  around 
till  he  found  me,  and  we  went  to  hell  together — didn't  we, 
Cade,  old  friend?" 

Two  large  tears  stole  down  the  Weasel's  seamy  cheeks. 
He  rubbed  them  off  with  his  smoky  fists,  leaving  smears 
beside  his  nose. 

164 


CAKDIGAN 

"  She  took  our  baby,  too,"  he  sniffed ;  "  you  forgot  that, 
Jack." 

"  So  I  did,  so  I  did,"  said  Mount,  pityingly.  "  Come  on, 
friends,  the  sun's  sliding  galley  west,  and  it's  a  longer  road 
to  the  devil  than  Boston  preachers  tell  you.  Come,  Shemmy, 
old  chuck,  hoist  that  pretty  nose  up  on  both  feet !  Now,  Mr. 
Cardigan !" 

We  marched  on  heavily,  bearing  southwest,  descending  the 
great  slope  of  mountain  and  table-land  which  was  but  a  vast 
roof,  shedding  a  thousand  streams  into  the  slow  Ohio,  now 
curving  out  below  us,  red  as  blood  in  the  kindling  coals  of 
sunset. 

The  river  seemed  but  a  mile  distant,  so  clear  was  the  air 
in  the  mountains,  but  we  journeyed  on,  hour  after  hour, 
until  the  big  yellow  moon  floated  above  the  hills,  and  the 
river  faded  into  the  blue  shadows  of  a  splendid  night. 

Mount  had  thrown  aside  all  caution  now.  He  strode  on 
ahead,  singing  a  swinging  air  with  full-chested  lungs : 

"  Come,  all  you  Tryon  County  men, 

And  never  be  dismayed, 
But  trust  in  the  Lord, 

And  He  will  be  your  aid!" 

And  one  by  one  we  all  took  up  the  stirring  song,  singing 
cheerily  as  we  marched  in  file,  till  the  dark  forest  rang  back 
word  for  word. 

And  I  do  remember  Shemuel,  his  thumbs  in  his  arm-pits, 
and  cap  over  one  eye,  singing  right  lustily  and  footing  it 
proudly  beside  Mount. 

Suddenly  a  light  twinkled  on  the  edge  of  a  clearing,  then 
another  broke  out  like  a  star  in  the  bush,  and  soon  all 
about  us  cabin-windows  gleamed  brightly  and  we  were 
marching  down  a  broad  road,  full  of  stones  and  stumps,  and 
lined  on  either  side  by  cultivated  land  and  cabins  enclosed 
in  little  stockades. 

"  Shoulder  arms !  "Right  wheel !"  cried  Mount ;  and  we 
filed  between  two  block-houses,  and  across  a  short  bridge, 
and  halted,  grounding  arms  under  the  shadow  of  a  squatty 
fort  built  with  enormous  logs. 

The  sentry  had  called  out  the  guard,  and  the  corporal  in 

165 


CARDIGAN 

charge  came  up  to  us,  lifting  his  laiithorn.  He  greeted 
Mount  cheerfully,  nodding  and  smiling  at  Renard  also. 

"  Who  the  devil  is  this  he-goat  with  red  whiskers  ?"  he  de 
manded,  illuminating  Shemuel's  cheerful  features. 

"  .Friend  of  liberty,"  said  Mount,  in  a  low  voice.  "  Is 
Colonel  Cresap  in  the  fort,  corporal  ?" 

"  No,"  said  the  corporal,  looking  hard  at  me ;  "  he's  off 
somewhere.  Who  is  this  gentleman,  Jack  ?" 

I  looked  at  Mount,  perhaps  appealingly,  wondering  what 
he  would  say. 

But  he  did  not  hesitate;  he  laid  his  great  paw  on  my 
shoulder  and  said,  "He's  a  good  lad,  corporal;  give  him  a 
bed  and  a  bowl  o'  porridge,  and  it's  a  kindness  to  Jack  Mount 
you  will  do." 

Then  he  held  out  his  hand  to  me,  and  I  took  it. 

"Good-night,  lad,"  he  said,  heartily.  "We'll  meet  again 
to-morrow.  I've  a  few  friends  to  see  to-night.  Sleep  tight 
to  the  bed  and  think  not  too  much  ill  of  this  same  Catamount 
Jack  they  write  books  about." 

The  Weasel  sidled  up  and  offered  his  small,  dry  hand. 

"  If  you  were  ruined,"  he  said,  regretfully,  "  you'd  make 
a  rare  wood-runner." 

I  thanked  him  uncertainly  and  returned  Shemuel's  low 
obeisance  with  an  unforgiving  nod. 

"  Pray,  follow  me,  sir,"  said  the  corporal,  with  a  civil  bow, 
and  I  walked  after  him  through  the  postern,  out  across  the 
moonlit  parade,  and  into  the  western  barracks,  where  he 
lighted  me  to  a  tiny  casemate  and  pointed  to  a  door. 

"  We  have  messed,  but  there's  some  cold  meat  and  a  jug 
of  cider  for  you,"  he  said,  affably.  "  Tender's  a  bucket  of 
water,  and  I'll  leave  this  lanthorn  for  you.  Open  that  door, 
and  you'll  find  food  and  drink.  Good-night,  sir." 

"  Good-night,"  I  said,  "  and  pardon  my  importunity,  but  I 
have  a  message  for  Colonel  Cresap." 

"  He  returns  to  the  fort  to-morrow,"  said  the  soldier. 
Then,  lingering,  he  asked  the  news  from  Boston  and  whether 
any  more  troops  had  been  sent  thither.  But  I  did  not  know 
and  he  retired  presently,  whistling  "  The  White  Cockade," 
and  making  passes  at  the  moonbeams  with  his  bright  bayonet. 

As  for  me,  I  sat  down  on  the  bed,  and  slipping  my  sack 

166 


CAKDIGAN 

from  my  shoulders,  I  rolled  over  on  the  blanket,  meaning 
only  to  close  my  eyes  for  a  minute.  But  dawn  was  shining 
in  through  the  loopholes  of  the  casemate  ere  I  unclosed  my 
eyes  to  the  world  again,  and  the  drums  and  fifes  were  playing, 
the  sun  above  the  horizon. 

Bang!  went  a  cannon  from  the  parapet,  and,  leaning  out 
of  the  porthole,  I  saw  the  flag  of  England  crawling  up  the 
halyards  over  my  head. 

I  sprang  out  of  bed,  and  without  waiting  for  food,  though 
I  was  half  famished,  I  dressed  hurriedly  and  ran  out  across 
the  parade  to  the  postern. 

"  How  far  is  the  Cayuga  castle  ?"  I  asked  the  sentinel. 

"  About  a  mile  up  the  river,"  he  replied,  adding :  "  It's  not 
very  safe  to  go  there  just  now.  The  Indians  have  been  rest 
less  these  three  weeks,  and  I  guess  there's  deviltry  hatching 
yonder." 

"Don't  they  come  in  to  the  village  at  all?"  I  inquired, 
glancing  around  at  half  a  dozen  men  who  had  gathered  at 
the  postern  to  watch  the  morning  parade. 

"  There's  a  Cayuga,  now,"  said  the  sentry,  pointing  to  a 
short,  blanketed  figure  squatting  outside  the  drawbridge. 

I  walked  across  the  bridge  and  approached  the  Indian,  who 
immediately  rose  when  he  saw  me,  as  though  he  expected  ill- 
treatment,  a  kick  perhaps.  The  movement  was  full  of  sad 
significance  to  me,  like  the  cowering  of  a  mistreated  hound. 
Shame  to  those  who  inspire  cringing  in  beasts !  Double  dis 
honour  on  those  before  whom  men  cower ! 

So  this  was  the  result  of  Cresap's  coming!  I  saw  it  all  in 
an  instant;  the  bullying,  overbearing  pioneers  were  here  to 
stay,  backed  by  cannon  and  fort  and  a  thousand  long  rifles, 
backed,  too,  by  my  Lord  Dunmore,  to  play  for  a  stake,  the 
winning  of  which  meant  woe  unspeakable  to  my  native  land. 

The  Indian  was  watching  me  sullenly.  I  held  out  my  hand 
and  said :  "  Peace,  brother.  I  am  a  belt-bearer." 

There  was  a  silence.    After  a  moment  he  took  my  hand. 

"  Peace,  bearer  of  belts,"  he  said,  quietly. 

"  Our  council  fire  is  at  Onondaga,"  I  said. 

"  It  burns  on  the  Ohio,  too,"  he  replied,  gravely. 

"  It  burns  at  both  doors  of  the  Long  House,"  I  said.  "  Go 
to  your  sachems  and  wise  men.  Say  to  them  that  Quider  is 

167 


CARDIGAN 

dead;  that  the  three  clans  who  mourn  shall  be  raised  up; 
that  Sir  William  has  sent  six  belts  to  the  Cayuga.  I  bear 
them." 

He  stared  at  me  for  a  full  minute,  then  gravely  turned 
north,  across  the  cleared  land,  drawing  his  scarlet  blanket 
over  his  face. 

All  that  morning  I  waited  patiently  for  Mount  to  come, 
believing  that  he  might  have  some  friend  in  the  village  who 
would  give  me  a  lodging  where  I  could  lie  hid  until  Colonel 
Cresap  returned  to  the  fort. 

Whether  Butler  had  gone  on  to  Pittsburg  or  whether  he 
still  lay  in  ambush  for  me  below  Crown  Gap,  I  did  not 
know. 

One  thing  was  clear:  I  could  not  remain  at  the  fort  with 
out  risk  of  arrest  if  Butler  arrived  in  Cresap's  camp  with  a 
new  warrant.  Every  moment  I  tarried  here  in  the  barracks 
might  bring  danger  nearer ;  yet,  where  was  I  to  go  ? 

Bitterly  disappointed  at  the  news  that  Cresap  was  in  Pitts- 
burg,  I  durst  not,  however,  journey  thither  in  search  of  him, 
for  fear  he  might  have  started  to  return,  and  so  risk  passing 
him  on  the  trails,  of  which  there  were  seven  that  traversed 
the  forest  betwixt  Pittsburg  Fortress  and  Cresap's  camp. 
And  on  the  morrow,  too,  must  I  needs  deliver  my  belts  to  the 
Cayugas  at  their  castle.  This  was  even  more  important  than 
intercepting  Colonel  Cresap;  for  I  might  gain  Cresap  by 
argument,  even  though  he  returned  here  with  fresh  instruc 
tions  from  Lord  Dunmore,  and  his  mind  poisoned  against  me 
by  Walter  Butler;  but  I,  personally,  could  hope  to  wield  no 
influence  with  the  Cayugas  save  by  what  authority  was  in 
vested  in  me  through  Sir  William's  wampum  pledges. 

However,  spite  of  my  dangerous  predicament,  I  was  raven 
ously  hungry,  and  made  out  to  clean  my  platter  and  bowl  as 
many  times  as  they  cared  to  replenish  it.  Then  I  thanked 
my  host,  the  corporal,  and  we  shook  hands  in  friendly  fash 
ion,  he  inquiring  when  I  expected  my  friend  Mount  to  re 
turn  for  me,  and  I  replying  that  I  did  not  know,  but  would 
make  ready  to  join  him  at  once. 

The  corporal,  whose  name  was  Paul  Cloud,  a  New  York 
man  by  birth,  aided  me  to  strap  on  my  pack,  conversing  the 
while  most  agreeably,  and  finally,  when  I  was  prepared,  he 

168 


CARDIGAN 

accompanied  me  to  the  parade-ground,  where  two  companies 
of  Virginia  militia  were  drilling  on  the  grass. 

"  My  duties  take  me  to  the  south  stockade,"  he  said,  once 
more  offering  his  hand.  And  again  I  thanked  him  for  his 
hospitality  so  warmly  that  he  seemed  a  trifle  surprised. 

"  What  friend  of  liberty  could  expect  less  ?"  he  protested, 
smiling.  "  Are  you  a  recent  recruit,  sir,  that  you  marvel  at 
the  good-fellowship  among  us  ?" 

"  Are  you,  too,  of  that  fellowship  ?"  I  exclaimed,  amazed  to 
find  rebels  in  uniform. 

He  looked  at  me  rather  blankly. 

"  You'll  scarce  find  a  Tory  in  the  regiment,"  he  said,  be 
ginning  to  be  amused  at  my  ignorance.  "  As  for  Colonel 
Cresap's  colonists  yonder,  I'll  warrant  them  all  save  some  two 
score  malignants  like  Greathouse,  the  store-keeper,  and  the 
company  he  keeps." 

His  unsuspicious  assumption  that  I  was  a  rebel  placed  me 
in  a  most  delicate  and  unhappy  position.  I  knew  not  what 
to  say  nor  how  to  explain  the  misunderstanding  without,  per 
haps,  seriously  damaging  Jack  Mount,  who  had  vouched  for 
me — as  a  friend,  I  supposed,  not  as  a  rebel  comrade. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  do  not  merit  your  confidence  in  matters 
touching  the  fellowship  to  which  you  and  my  friend  Mount 
adhere,"  I  said,  stiffly,  determined  not  to  wear  false  colours. 
*'  I  am  not  a  patriot,  corporal,  and  Jack  Mount  meant  only 
a  kindness  to  a  brother  man  in  distress." 

Cloud  cut  me  short  with  a  hearty  laugh. 

"  I  guess  Jack  Mount  knows  what  he  is  about,"  he  said, 
clapping  me  on  the  shoulder.  "  Half  our  men  are  somewhat 
backward  and  distrustful,  like  you;  but  I'll  warrant  them 
when  the  time  comes!  Oh,  I  know  them!  It's  your  fawn 
ing,  slavering,  favour-currying  Tory  that  I  shy  at!  Ay,  the 
man  who  snatches  the  very  speech  from  between  your  teeth 
to  agree  with  you.  None  o'  that  kind  for  me.  I  know  them." 

He  stood  there,  serene,  smiling,  with  folded  arms,  his 
kindly  eyes  void  of  all  distrust ;  and  I  thought  to  myself  that 
such  a  man  must  needs  have  at  least  an  honest  grievance  to 
oppose  his  King  withal. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  abruptly,  "  time  is  on  the  wing,  friend. 
So  fare  you  pleasantly,  and — God  save  our  country !" 

169 


CAKDIGAN 

"  Amen,"  I  replied,  before  I  realized  that  I  had  acknowl 
edged  the  famous  patriots'  greeting.  He  turned  around  to 
laugh  significantly,  then  walked  away  towards  the  sallyport, 
swinging  his  hanger  contentedly. 

Ill-pleased  with  my  bungling  in  such  a  delicate  situation, 
and  greatly  disturbed  at  having  implied  my  adherence  to 
this  fellowship  of  which  I  yet  knew  nothing,  I  stood  on  the 
parade,  biting  my  lips  in  vexation  and  wondering  where  in 
the  world  to  go. 

The  two  companies  of  Virginia  militia  were  marching  and 
counter-marching  at  "  support,"  halberdiers  guiding,  drum 
mers  and  fifers  leading  off,  and  a  long,  lean  major  pacing  to 
and  fro,  and  watching  the  two  captains  with  keen,  wrinkled 
eyes. 

The  militia  were  mostly  Virginians  born,  tall,  stout  fel 
lows,  smartly  uniformed  in  drab  and  scarlet,  and  wearing  the 
bugle  on  their  cross-belts,  indicating  them  to  be  light  in 
fantry.  Truly,  they  wheeled  and  halted  and  marched  and 
counter-marched  most  adroitly,  carefully  preserving  dis 
tances  and  alignment;  and  I  thought  the  major  a  martinet 
that  he  found  nothing  but  fault  with  the  officers  and  men. 
Certainly  they  paraded  perfectly,  their  black  knee-gaitered 
legs  moving  in  unison,  their  muskets  steady,  their  left  arms 
swinging  as  one,  which  interested  me  because,  in  our  militia 
of  Tryon  County,  to  swing  the  free  arm  is  not  allowed. 

But  I  had  no  business  to  linger  here;  I  felt  that  every 
minute  redoubled  my  danger.  Yet  again  I  asked  myself 
where  under  heaven  I  could  go,  and  I  thought  bitterly  of 
Mount  for  leaving  me  here  neglected. 

Plainly  the  first  thing  to  be  done  was  to  get  out  of  the 
fort.  This  I  accomplished  without  the  slightest  trouble,  no 
body  questioning  me;  and  I  shortly  found  myself  in  the 
road  which  appeared  to  be  the  main  street  of  Cresap's  vil 
lage. 

The  fort,  I  now  perceived,  stood  on  a  low  hill  in  the  centre 
of  cleared  ground.  The  road  encircled  the  fort,  then  ran 
west  through  a  roughly  cultivated  country,  dotted  with  cabins 
of  logs  plastered  over  with  blue  clay.  The  circumference  of 
the  village  itself  appeared  to  be  inconsiderable.  Everywhere 
the  dark  circle  of  the  forest  seemed  to  crowd  in  the  desolate 

170 


CARDIGAN 

hamlet;  I  say  desolate,  for  indeed  the  scene  was  grim,  even 
for  the  frontier.  The  whole  country  had  a  black  appearance 
from  the  thousands  of  charred  roots  and  stumps  which 
choked  the  fields.  Dead  trees  lay  in  heaps,  stark  patches  of 
dead  pines  stood  like  gray  spectres,  blasted  hemlocks,  with 
foliage  seared  rusty,  lined  the  landscape,  marking  the  zones 
doomed  to  cultivation.  These  latter  were  girdled  trees,  but 
I  saw  no  attempt  to  preserve  any  trees  for  shade  around  the 
cabins,  or  for  shade  along  the  fences,  or  for  beauty. 

We  in  Johnstown  never  girdled  the  bush  without  preserv 
ing  rows  of  trees  to  ornament  roads  and  fields,  and  this  dis 
mal  destruction  by  fire  and  axe  reacted  on  my  sombre 
thoughts,  depressing  me  dolefully. 

Under  a  leaden  sky,  through  which  a  pale  sun  peered  fit-, 
fully,  the  blackened  waste  about  me  seemed  horrible  and 
ominous  of  horrors  to  come;  the  very  soil  in  the  fields  was 
black  with  charcoal,  through  which  the  young  corn  struggled 
up  into  the  fading  sunshine  as  though  strangling. 

Cresap's  Maryland  colonists  were  busy  everywhere  with 
harrow  and  plough  and  axe  and  spade.  The  encircling  woods 
echoed  and  re-echoed  with  their  chopping;  their  voices  rang 
out,  guiding  the  slow  ox-teams  among  the  stumps.  At  inter 
vals  the  crack  of  a  rifle  signalled  the  death  of  some  partridge 
or  squirrel  close  by. 

•  There  were  men  in  the  fields  labouring  half -naked  at  the 
.unyielding  roots;  men  in  linen  shirts  and  smalls,  planting  or 
weeding ;  men  moving  in  distant  fields,  aimlessly  perhaps,  per 
haps  planning  a  rough  home,  perhaps  a  grave. 

Women  sometimes  passed  along  the  paths,  urging  gaunt 
cattle  to  gaunter  pasture;  children  peered  from  high  door- 
sills,  hung  from  unpainted  windows,  quarrelled  in  bare  door- 
yards,  half  seen  through  stockades;  some  chopped  fire-wood, 
some  carried  water,  some  played  in  the  ditches  or  sailed 
chips  in  the  dark,  slow  stream  that  crawled  out  across  the 
land  towards  the  Ohio. 

And  here  and  there,  on  little  knolls  dotting  the  scene,  tall 
riflemen  stood,  leaning  on  their  weapons;  sentinels  mounting 
guard  over  flock  and  family  below. 

. .  •  I  looked  at  the  flag  on  the  fort ;  its  dull  folds  hung  dark 
.and  lifeless  under  a  darkening  sky.  Below  it  paced  a  sentry 

171 


CARDIGAN 

to  and  fro,  to  and  fro,  with  the  gray  light  on  his  musket 
shining  dimly. 

I  looked  towards  the  black  woods.  They  seemed  to  promise 
more  protection  than  fort  and  flag;  there  was  less  gloom 
under  their  branches  than  under  these  sad  cabin-roofs. 

Unconsciously  I  began  to  walk  towards  the  forest,  yet  with 
no  idea  what  I  should  do  there.  A  child  here  and  there 
saluted  me  from  stockade  gates;  now  and  then  an  anxious 
woman's  face  appeared  at  a  window,  watching  me  out  of 
sight  along  the  charred  road.  Presently  I  passed  a  double 
log-house,  from  the  eaves  of  which  dangled  a  green  bush.  The 
door  bore  a  painted  sign-board  also,  representing  a  large 
house  with  arms  and  legs  like  a  man,  at  which  I  puzzled,  but 
t  could  not  guess  the  significance. 

I  needed  salt,  having  for  the  last  week  used  white-wood 
ashes  to  savour  my  corn  withal,  so  I  entered  the  tavern  and 
made  known  my  needs  to  a  coarse-featured,  thick-set  fellow, 
who  lay  in  a  chair  smoking  a  clay  pipe. 

He  rose  instanter,  all  bows  and  smiles  and  cringing  to  my 
orders,  begging  me  to  be  seated  until  he  could  find  the  salt 
sack  in  the  cellar;  and  I  sat  down,  after  saluting  the  com 
pany,  which  consisted  of  half  a  dozen  men  playing  cards  by 
the  window. 

They  all  returned  my  salute,  some  leaning  clear  around  to 
look  at  me;  and  although  they  resumed  their  game  I  noticed 
that  they  began  talking  in  whispers,  pausing  sometimes  in  a 
shuffle  to  turn  their  eyes  on  me. 

Presently  the  landlord  came  in  with  my  small  bag  of  salt, 
and  set  it  on  the  scales  with  many  a  bow  and  smirk  at  me  to 
beg  indulgence  for  his  delay. 

"  You  have  travelled  far,  sir,"  he  said,  pointedly ;  "  there 
is  northern  mud  on  your  hunting-shirt  and  southern  burrs 
on  your  legging  fringe.  Ha!  A  stroke,  sir!  Touched,  by 
your  leave,  sir!  I  have  run  the  forests  myself,  sir,  and  I 
read  as  I  run — I  read  as  I  run." 

He  was  tying  my  sack  up  with  grass,  clumsily  I  thought 
for  one  who  had  lived  as  a  forest-runner.  But  I  waited  pa 
tiently,  he  meanwhile  conversing  most  politely.  In  fact,  I 
could  find  no  opportunity  to  courteously  make  an  end  to  his 
garrulous  chatter,  and,  ere  I  could  refuse  or  prevent  it,  he 

172 


CARDIGAN 

had  persuaded  me  to  a  pewter  of  home-brew  and  had  set  it 
before  me,  brimming  with  good  stout  foam. 

"No  water  there,  sir!"  he  observed,  proudly;  "body  and 
froth  hum  like  bee-hives  in  August!  It  is  my  own,  sir,  my 
own,  barrel  and  malt  and  hops !" 

I  could  do  no  less  than  taste  the  ale,  and  he  picked  up  his 
pipe  and  begged  the  honour  of  sitting  in  my  presence :  all  of 
which  ceremony  revealed  to  me  that  my  language  and  bear 
ing  were  not  at  all  in  concord  with  my  buckskin  and  my  pack,, 
and  that  he  was  quite  aware  of  the  discrepancy. 

"Perchance,  sir,  you  have  news  from  Boston?"  he  asked,, 
with  a  jolly  laugh. 

I  shook  my  head.  The  company  at  the  table  by  the  window 
had  paused  to  listen. 

"  Well,  well,"  he  said,  puffing  his  long  clay  into  a  glow,, 
"  these  be  parlous  times,  sir,  the  world  over !  And,  between, 
ourselves,  sir,  begging  your  pardon  for  the  familiarity,  sir,  I 
have  been  wondering  myself  whether  the  King  is  wholly 
right." 

The  stillness  in  the  room  was  intense. 

"  Doubt,"  said  I,  carelessly,  "  is  no  friend  to  loyalty." 

I  was  drinking  when  I  finished  this  choice  philosophy,  but 
through  the  glass  bottom  of  my  pewter  I  surprised  a  very 
cunning  squint  in  his  puffy  eyes. 

"Oho!"  thought  I,  "you  wish  to  know  my  politics,  eh? 
Let  us  see  how  much  you'll  find  out!"  And  I  set  down  my 
pewter  with  a  sigh  of  contentment  and  tossed  him  a  shilling 
for  my  reckoning. 

"  But,"  he  suggested,  "  cannot  even  the  King  be  deceived 
by  unscrupulous  counsellors  ?" 

"  The  King  should  know  better  than  you  whether  his  min 
isters  be  what  you  accuse  them  of  being,"  I  said,  seriously. 

"  I  meant  no  accusation,"  he  said,  hastily ;  "  but  I  voiced 
the  sentiments  of  many  honest  neighbours  of  mine." 

"  Sentiments  which  smack  somewhat  of  treason,"  I  inter 
rupted,  coldly. 

Through  the  bottom  of  my  mug  again  I  saw  he  was  still 
far  from  satisfied  concerning  my  real  sentiments.  I  listened 
as  I  drank :  the  card-players  behind  me  were  not  playing. 

"  Landlord,"  I  asked,  carelessly,  cutting  short  another  argTi- 

173 


CARDIGAN 

merit,  "  what  may  your  tavern  sign  mean  with  its  house  run 
ning  loose  on  a  pair  o'  legs  ?" 

"  It  is  my  own  name,  sir,"  he  laughed,  "  Greathouse !  I 
flatter  me  there  is  some  small  wit  in  the  conceit,  sir,  though 
I  painted  yon  sign  myself !" 

So  this  was  Greathouse,  a  notorious  loyalist — this  bloated 
lout  who  had  been  prying  and  picking  at  me  to  learn  my 
sentiments?  The  slyness  of  the  fellow  disgusted  me,  and  I 
could  scarce  control  my  open  aversion,  though  I  did  succeed 
in  leaving  him  with  his  suspicions  lulled,  and  got  out  of  the 
house  without  administering  to  him  the  kick  which  my  leg 
was  itching  for. 

From  the  corner  of  my  eye  I  could  see  the  card-players 
watching  me  from  the  window ;  it  incensed  me  to  be  so  spied 
upon,  and  I  was  glad  when  a  turn  in  the  scurvy,  rutted  road 
shut  me  out  of  their  vision. 

There  were  several  houses  just  beyond  me  to  the  left;  one 
displayed  a  holly-bush  and  wrinkled  berries,  a  signal  to  me 
to  avoid  it,  and  I  should  have  done  so  had  I  not  perceived 
Jack  Mount  loafing  in  the  doorway,  and  Shemuel  seated  on 
the  horse-block,  eating  a  dish  of  fish  with  his  fingers. 

From  the  blotched  face  and  false  smile  of  Greathouse  to 
the  filthy  company  of  Shemuel  was  no  advantage.  If  these 
two  creatures  were  representatives  of  their  respective  causes, 
I  had  small  stomach  for  either  them  or  their  parties.  Tory 
and  patriot,  pot-licker  and  Jew,  they  disgusted  me;  and  I 
returned  Mount's  cheery  salute  with  a  sullen  nod,  not  pausing 
at  the  house  as  I  passed  by. 

He  came  out  into  the  road  after  me,  asking  what  had  gone 
amiss;  and  I  told  him  he  had  left  me  at  the  fort  without 
advice  or  counsel,  and  that  I  had  quitted  the  barracks,  not 
caring  to  be  caught  there  by  Butler  and  his  warrant. 

"  Shame  on  you,  lad,  for  the  thought !"  said  Mount,  angri 
ly.  "  Do  you  think  we  do  things  by  halves,  Cade  and  I  ?  The 
Weasel  has  been  in  touch  with  Butler's  men  all  night,  ready 
to  warn  you  the  moment  they  started  for  this  camp!  He's 
asleep  in  there,  now,"  jerking  his  huge  thumb  towards  the 
inn,  "  and  I've  just  returned  from  seeing  Butler  well  on  the 
trail  towards  Pittsburg." 

Mortified  and  ashamed  at  my  complaint,  and  deeply  touch- 

174 


CARDIGAN 

ed  by  the  quiet  kindness  of  these  two  men  who  had,  spite  of 
fatigue,  voluntarily  set  out  to  watch  while  I  slept,  I  silently 
offered  my  hand  to  Mount.  He  took  it  fretfully,  complain 
ing  that  all  the  world  had  always  misunderstood  him  as  I 
had,  and  vowing  he  would  never  more  do  kindness  to  man  or 
beast  or  good  red  herring ! 

"  Small  blame  if  the  world  requites  your  generosity  as 
stupidly  as  I  do,"  said  I;  whereat  he  fell  a-laughing  and 
drew  me  with  him  into  the  tavern,  vowing  we  should  wash 
out  all  bitterness  in  a  draught  of  ale. 

The  inn,  which  was  called  "  The  Leather  Bottle,"  appeared 
to  be  clean  though  rough.  Tables  and  chairs  were  massive, 
hewn  out  of  buckeye;  horn  instead  of  glass  filled  the  tiny 
squares  in  the  window  frames,  and  a  shelf  ran  around  the 
tap-room  just  below  the  loopholes,  whereon  men  could  stand 
to  fire  in  any  direction. 

Mount  presented  me  to  a  young  man  in  homespun  who  had 
been  sitting  by  the  chimney,  reading  a  letter — a  quiet,  modest 
gentleman  of  thirty,  perhaps,  somewhat  travel-stained  and 
spotted  with  reddish  mud,  which  proclaimed  him  an  arrival 
from  the  south. 

He  gave  me  a  firm,  cool  clasp  of  the  hand  and  a  curiously 
sharp  yet  not  unkindly  smile,  promising  to  join  us  when  he 
had  finished  the  letter  he  was  reading. 

I  had  meant  to  tell  Mount  of  my  conversations  with  Cor 
poral  Cloud  and  with  Greathouse,  but  hesitated  because  the 
smallness  of  the  room  would  carry  even  a  whisper  to  the 
stranger  by  the  chimney. 

Mount  must  have  divined  my  intentions,  for  he  said,  in 
his  hearty,  deep-chested  voice,  "  You  may  say  what  you  please 
here,  Mr.  Cardigan,  and  trust  this  gentleman  from  Maryland 
as  you  trust  me,  I  hope." 

I  had  not  caught  the  name  of  the  young  man  from  Mary 
land,  and  was  diffident  about  asking.  He  looked  up  from  his 
letter  with  a  brief  smile  and  nod  at  us,  and  we  sat  down  be 
side  one  of  the  hewn  buckeye  tables  and  called  upon  the  tap- 
boy  for  home-brew. 

I  began  by  telling  Mount  very  frankly  that  he  had  put  me 
in  a  false  position  as  a  rebel.  I  retailed  my  conversation 
with  Corporal  Cloud,  how  I  had  felt  it  dishonourable  to  a,Q- 

175 


CARDIGAN 

cept  hospitality  under  a  misunderstanding,  and  how  I  had 
deemed  it  necessary  to  confess  me.  But  this  only  appeared 
to  amuse  Mount,  who  laughed  at  me  maliciously  over  his 
brown  tankard  and  sucked  in  the  frothy  ale  with  unfeigned 
smacks  of  satisfaction. 

"  Tiddle— diddle— diddle!  Who  the  devil  cares!"  he  said. 
"  I  wish  half  of  our  patriots  possessed  your  tender  conscience, 
friend  Michael." 

I  swallowed  a  draught  in  silence,  not  at  all  pleased  to  feel 
myself  forced  into  a  position  whither  it  appeared  everybody 
was  conspiring  to  drive  me. 

"  Fm  loyal  to  the  King,"  I  said,  bluntly ;  "  and  when  I  am 
ready  to  renounce  him,  I  shall  do  so,  not  before." 

"  Certainly,"  observed  Mount,  complacently. 

"  Not  that  I  care  for  Tory  company,  either,"  I  added,  in 
disgust,  thinking  of  my  encounter  with  Greathouse.  And  I 
related  the  affair  to  Mount. 

The  big  fellow's  eyes  narrowed  and  he  set  his  tankard  down 
with  a  bang. 

"  A  sneak!"  he  said.  "  A  sly,  mealy-mouthed  sneak!  Look 
out  for  this  fellow  Greathouse,  my  friend.  By  Heaven,  I'm 
sorry  he  saw  you !  You  can  depend  upon  it  the  news  of  your 
arrival  here  will  be  carried  to  Butler.  Why,  this  fellow, 
Greathouse,  is  a  notorious  creature  of  Lord  Dunmore,  set 
here  to  spy  on  Colonel  Cresap  and  see  that  the  militia  have 
no  commerce  with  rebel  emissaries  from  Boston.  Gad,  had 
I  not  believed  you  trusted  me,  and  that  you  would  sit  snug 
in  the  fort  yonder  instead  of  paying  calls  of  state  on  all  the 
Tories  in  town — " 

He  took  a  pull  at  the  fresh  tankard,  set  it  down  two- thirds 
empty,  and  lay  back  in  his  chair,  licking  his  lips  thoughtfully. 

"  How  long  do  you  stay  here  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Until  I  deliver  my  belts — that  will  be  to-morrow." 

"  I  thought  you  wished  to  see  Colonel  Cresap,  too  ?"  he 
said. 

"  I  do ;  he  will  return  to-day  they  tell  me." 

Mount  leaned  over  the  table,  folding  his  arms  under  his 
chest. 

"  Hark  ye,  friend  Michael,"  he  said.  "  Colonel  Cresap, 
three-quarters,  of  the  militia,  and  ajl  save  a  score  or.  so  of 

176 


CARDIGAN 

these  villagers  here  are  patriots.  The  Maryland  pioneers 
mean  to  make  a  home  here  for  themselves,  Indians  or  no 
Indians,  and  it  will  be  little  use  for  you  to  plead  with  Colonel 
Cresap,  who  could  not  call  off  his  people  if  he  would." 

"  If  he  is  a  true  patriot,"  I  said,  "  how  can  he  deliberately 
drive  the  Six  Nations  to  take  up  arms  against  the  colonies  ?" 

"  What  you  don't  understand,"  replied  Mount,  "  is  that 
Colonel  .Cresap's  people  hold  the  Indians  at  small  account. 
They  are  here  and  they  mean  to  stay  here,  spite  of  Sir  Will 
iam  Johnson  and  the  Cayugas." 

"  But  can't  you  see  that  it's  Dunmore's  policy  to  bring  on 
a  clash  ?"  I  exclaimed,  in  despair.  "  If  Cresap  is  conciliatory 
towards  the  Cayugas,  can't  you  see  that  Dunmore  will  stir 
up  such  men  as  Butler  and  Greathouse  to  commit  some  act 
of  violence  ?  I  tell  you,  Dunmore  means  to  have  a  war  started 
here  which  will  forever  turn  the  Six  Nations  against  us." 

"  Against  us  ?"  said  Mount,  meaningly. 

"  Yes — us  I"  I  exclaimed.  "  If  it  be  treason  to  oppose  such 
a  monstrous  crime  as  that  which  Lord  Dunmore  contem 
plates,  then  I  am  guilty!  If  to  be  a  patriot  means  to  resist 
such  men  as  Dunmore  and  Butler — ay,  and  our  Governor 
Tryon,  too,  who  knows  what  is  being  done  and  says  nothing! 
— if  to  defend  the  land  of  one's  birth  against  the  plots  of 
these  men  makes  me  an  enemy  to  the  King,  why — why,  then," 
I  ended,  violently,  "  I  am  the  King's  enemy  to  the  last  blood- 
drop  in  my  body !" 

There  was  a  silence.  I  sat  there  with  clinched  fist  on  the 
table,  teeth  set,  realizing  what  I  had  said,  glad  that  I  had 
said  it,  grimly  determined  to  stand  by  every  word  I  had 
uttered. 

"Lord  Dunmore  represents  the  King,"  said  Mount,  smil 
ing. 

"  Prove  it  to  me  and  I  am  a  rebel  from  this  moment !"  I  \ 
cried. 

"  But  Lord  Dunmore  is  only  doing  his  duty,"  urged  Mount.  , 
"  His  Majesty  needs  allies." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  Lord  Dunmore  is  provoking 
war  here  at  the  King's  command  ?"  I  asked,  in  horror. 

The  young  man  by  the  chimney  stood  up  and  bent  his 
pleasant  eyes  on  me. 

M...  177 


CARDIGAN 

"  I  have  here,"  he  said,  tapping  the  letter  in  his  hand,  "  my 
Lord  Dunmore's  commission  as  major-general  of  militia,  and 
his  Majesty's  permission  to  enlist  a  thousand  savages  to  serve 
under  me  in  the  event  of  rebellion  in  these  colonies!" 

I  had  risen  to  my  feet  at  the  sound  of  the  stranger's  voice ; 
Mount,  too,  had  risen,  tankard  in  hand. 

"  I  am  further  authorized,"  said  the  young  stranger,  coolly, 
"  by  command  of  my  Lord  Dunmore,  to  offer  £12  sterling 
for  every  rebel  scalp  taken  by  these  Indian  allies  of  his  most 
Christian  Majesty." 

At  that  I  went  cold  and  fell  a-trembling. 

"  By  God !"  I  stammered.  "  By  the  blood  of  man !— this  is 
too  much — this  is  too — " 

Crash!  went  Mount's  tankard  on  the  table;  and,  turning 
to  the  young  stranger  with  a  bow,  "  I  bring  you  a  new  recruit, 
Colonel  Cresap,"  he  said,  quietly ;  "  will  you  administer  the 
oath,  sir?" 

Thunderstruck,  I  stared  at  the  silent  young  man  in  his 
gray  woollen  hunting-shirt  and  cloth  gaiters  who  stood  there, 
grave  eyes  bent  on  me,  tearing  at  the  edge  of  his  paper  with 
his  white  teeth. 

"  Pray,  be  seated,  Mr.  Cardigan,"  he  said,  smiling.  "  I 
know  you  have  a  message  for  me  from  Sir  William  Johnson. 
I  hold  it  an  honour  to  receive  commands  from'  such  an  hon 
ourable  and  upright  gentleman." 

He  drew  up  a  heavy  buckeye  chair,  motioning  Mount  and 
me  to  be  seated;  the  tap-boy  brought  his  tankard;  he  tasted 
it  sparingly,  and  leaned  back,  waiting  for  me  to  speak. 

If  my  speech  was  halting  or  ill-considered,  my  astonish 
ment  at  the  identity  of  the  stranger  was  to  blame;  but  I 
spoke  earnestly  and  without  reserve,  and  my  very  inexperi 
ence  must  have  pleaded  with  him,  for  he  listened  patiently 
and  kindly,  even  when  I  told  him,  with  some  heat,  that  the 
whole  land  would  hold  him  responsible  for  an  outbreak  on 
the  frontier. 

When  I  had  finished,  he  thanked  me  for  coming,  and 
begged  me  to  convey  his  cordial  gratitude  to  Sir  William. 
Then  he  began  his  defence,  very  modestly  and  with  frankest 
confession  that  he  had  been  trapped  by  Dunmore  into  a  pit 
fall,  the  existence  of  which  he  had  never  dreamed  of, 

178 


CARDIGAN 

"  I  am  to-day,"  he  said,  "  the  Moses  of  these  people,  inas 
much  as  I  have,  at  Lord  Dunmore's  command,  led  them  into 
this  promised  land.  God  knows  it  was  the  blind  who  led  the 
blind.  And  now,  for  months,  I  have  been  aware  that  Dun- 
more  wishes  a  clash  with  the  Cayugas  yonder;  but,  until  Sir 
William  Johnson  opened  my  eyes,  I  have  never  understood 
why  Lord  Dunmore  desired  war." 

He  looked  at  Mount  as  though  to  ask  whether  that  notori 
ous  forest-runner  had  suspected  Dunmore;  and  Mount  shook 
his  head  with  a  sneer. 

"  He  is  a  witless  ass,"  he  muttered.  "  I  see  nothing  in  Mr. 
Cardigan's  fears  that  Dunmore  means  trouble  here." 

"I  do,"  said  Cresap,  calmly.  "Sir  William  is  right;  we 
have  been  tricked  into  this  forest.  Why,  Jack,  it's  perfectly 
plain  to  me  now.  This  very  commission  in  my  hands,  here, 
proves  the  existence  of  every  missing  link  in  the  chain  of 
conspiracy.  This  commission  is  made  out  for  the  purpose  of 
buying  my  loyalty  to  Dunmore.  Can't  you  see?" 

Mount  shook  his  head. 

Cresap  flushed  faintly  and  turned  to  me. 

"  What  can  I  do,  Mr.  Cardigan  ?  I  have  led  these  people 
here,  but  I  cannot  lead  them  back.  Do  you  think  they  would 
follow  me  in  a  retreat  ?  You  do  not  know  them.  If  I  should 
argue  with  them  every  day  for  a  year,  I  could  not  induce  a 
single  man  to  abandon  the  cabin  he  has  built  or  the  morsel 
of  charred  earth  he  has  planted.  And  where  should  I  lead 
them?  I  have  nothing  behind  me  to  offer  them.  Virginia 
is  over-populated.  I  have  no  land  to  give  them  except  this, 
granted  by  the  King — granted  in  spite  of  his  royal  oath,  now 
broken  to  the  Cayugas. 

"  You  say  the  whole  country  will  hold  me  responsible.  I 
cannot  help  that,  though  God  must  know  how  unjust  it  would 
be. 

"  Were  I  to  counsel  the  abandonment  of  this  fort  and  vil 
lage,  Lord  Dunmore  would  arrest  me  and  clap  me  into  Fort 
Pitt.  Is  it  not  better  for  me  to  stay  here  among  these  people 
who  trust  me?  Is  it  not  better  that  I  remain  and  labour 
among  my  people  in  the  cause  of  liberty? 

"  I  can  do  nothing  while  a  royal  Governor  governs  Vir 
ginia.  But  if  the  time  ever  comes  when  our  Boston  brothers 

179 


CARDIGAN 

sound  the  call  to  arms,  I  can  lead  six  hundred  riflemen  out 
of  this  forest,  whose  watchword  will  be,  l  Liberty  or  Death !'  " 

He  had  grown  pale  while  speaking;  two  bright  scarlet 
patches  flamed  under  his  cheek-bones;  he  coughed  painfully 
and  rested  his  head  on  his  hand. 

"  Go  to  your  Cayugas,"  he  said,  catching  his  breath.  "  Tell 
them  the  truth,  or  as  much  of  the  truth  as  Sir  William's 
wisdom  permits.  I  am  here  to  watch,  to  watch  such  crafty 
agents  as  Greathouse,  and  young  Walter  Butler,  whom  I  met 
on  the  Pitt  trail  three  hours  since.  Oh,  I  understand  the 
situation  now,  Mr.  Cardigan." 

He  tasted  his  ale  once  more,  thoughtfully. 

"Keep  Sir  William's  Cayugas  quiet  if  you  can,"  he  said. 
"  I  will  watch  Dunmore's  agents  that  they  do  nothing  to 
bring  on  war.  I  may  fail,  but  I  will  do  what  I  can.  When 
do  you  speak  to  the  Cayugas  with  belts?" 

"  At  dawn,"  I  replied,  soberly. 

"  Poor  devils,"  said  Cresap,  sadly,  "  poor,  tricked,  cheated, 
and  plundered  devils!  This  is  their  land.  I  should  never 
have  come  had  not  Dunmore  assured  me  the  Cayugas  had 
been  paid  for  the  country.  And  there  is  their  great  sachem, 
Logan,  called  *  The  Friend  of  the  White  Man.'  Greathouse 
has  made  a  drunken  sot  of  Logan,  and  all  his  family  down 
to  the  tiny  maid  of  ten.  Ay,  sir,  I  have  seen  Logan's  chil 
dren  lying  drunk  in  the  road  there  by  Greathouse's  tavern — 
poor,  little  babies  of  twelve  and  ten,  stark-naked,  lying  drunk 
in  the  rain !" 

After  a  moment  I  asked  why  he  had  not  expelled  this  fiend, 
Greathouse,  and  he  replied  that  he  had,  but  that  Dunmore 
had  sent  him  back  under  his  special  protection. 

"  What  on  earth  can  I  do  ?"  he  repeated.  "  The  Cayuga 
camp  is  rotten  with  whiskey.  Their  chiefs  and  sachems  come 
to  me  and  beg  me  to  forbid  the  sale.  I  am  powerless;  for 
back  of  me  stands  Lord  Dunmore  in  the  shape  of  Greathouse. 
By  God,  sir,  the  man  is  a  nightmare  to  me!" 

"  Why  not  twist  his  gullet  ?"  observed  Mount. 

Cresap  paid  him  no  attention,  and  the  big  fellow  pouted, 
muttering  that  it  was  a  simple  thing  to  exterminate  vermin. 

As  we  sat  there,  I  heard  the  rain  drumming  against  the 
horn  panes  in  the  window.  The  room  had  grown  very  dark. 

180 


CAEDIGAN 

Cresap  rose,  holding  out  his  hand  to  me. 

"  Shall  I  administer  the  oath  of  fellowship,  my  friend  3" 
he  asked. 

"  Not  yet,"  I  replied,  taking  his  hand. 

"When  you  are  ready,  Mr.  Cardigan,"  he  said,  simply. 
"Will  you  lodge  here?  That  is  well;  the  fort  is  not  safe. 
And,  if  I  mistake  not,  young  Butler  will  be  here  to-morrow 
to  search  for  you.  He  begged  me  to  have  you  arrested  should 
you  be  in  my  camp." 

"  I  shall  be  at  the  Cayuga  castle  by  dawn,"  I  said. 

"  And  after  that  ?"  inquired  Mount.  "  You  are  not  going 
to  leave  us,  are  you,  lad  ?" 

"  I  have  my  message  to  deliver  to  Sir  William,"  I  answered, 
earnestly ;  "  and,"  I  added,  "  truly,  I  do  not  believe  there  is 
anything  on  earth  that  can  prevent  my  delivering  my  mes 
sage,  nor  retard  my  returning  and  slaying  this  frightful 
enemy  of  mankind,  Walter  Butler." 


CHAPTER   XI 

THE  rain  fell  thickly  until  midnight,  and  kept  me  listening 
to  the  double  roll  of  the  drops  along  the  shingles.  I  lay 
in  my  blanket  under  the  roof,  and  slept  when  the  rain  ceased, 
but  awoke  before  dawn,  listening  to  the  wind  roaring  around 
the  eaves.  Pale  clouds,  scudding  low,  alternately  hid  and 
revealed  the  purple  roof  of  sky  on  which  stars  hung  trembling 
like  drops  of  dew. 

My  landlord,  Timothy  Boyd,  was  already  astir  below,  and 
presently  he  came  up  the  ladder  with  a  dish  of  porridge  for 
me — a  kindness,  indeed,  for  I  had  thought  to  set  out  for  the 
Cayuga  castle  on  an  empty  stomach.  He  also  brought  me  a 
bowl  of  coffee,  the  berries  of  which  he  said  had  been  sent  for 
my  use  by  Colonel  Cresap.  I  drank  the  coffee  thankfully, 
sitting  on  my  mattress  of  balsam  tips.  Then,  by  lanthorn- 
light,  I  dressed  me,  taking  only  bullet-pouch,  powder-horn, 
and  rifle,  and  bearing  the  six  belts  in  the  bosom  of  my  shirt. 
I  left  my  pack  with  Boyd,  commending  it  to  his  care;  and 
the  rugged  old  man  nodded  placidly,  bidding  me  rest  as 
sured  of  its  safety. 

"  There  is  foul  company  at  the  '  Greathouse  Inn/ "  he 
said,  as  we  descended  the  ladder  to  the  tap-room  below. 
"  Greathouse  received  four  guests  an  hour  ago.  Mount  bade 
me  warn  you,  sir.  He  said  you  would  understand." 

I  understood  at  once.  Butler,  Wraxall,  Toby  Tice,  and  the 
fourth  member  of  the  band  had  arrived  in  Cresap's  camp. 
But  I  cared  not;  I  was  about  to  accomplish  my  mission  under 
their  four  noses,  and  live  to  balance  my  account  with  them 
later. 

"  Is  Mount  sleeping  ?"  I  asked. 

The  old  man  laughed. 

"  I  have  never  seen  him  sleep,"  he  said.  "  I  know  him  well, 

182 


CARDIGAN 

but  I  have  never  seen  him  asleep.    He  is  out  yonder,  some 
where,  prowling." 

"  And  Shemuel'?— and  Cade  Renard?"  I  inquired. 

"  Shemuel  is  on  his  way  to  Pittsburg ;  Renard  mouses  with 
Mount.  Is  your  rifle  loaded,  sir  ?  There  be  foul  company  at 
the  other  inn.  This  night,  too,  did  Greathouse  make  nine 
savages  drunk  with  spirits.  Have  a  care  that  they  cross  not 
your  path,  young  man ;  for,  drunk,  your  Indians  go  blind  like 
rattlesnakes  in  September,  and  like  those  serpents,  too,  they 
strike  without  warning.  Have  a  care,  sir !" 

"  I  wish  you  knew  the  Indians  as  well  as  I  do,"  said  I, 
smiling.  "  I  fear  none  of  them,  save  the  Lenni-Lenape,  and 
these  I  fear  only  because  I  have  never  known  them.  I  think 
the  whole  world  can  be  tamed  with  kindness." 

Boyd  shook  his  gray  head,  watching  me  in  silence. 

A  brisk  southwest  wind  was  singing  through  the  pines  as  I 
stepped  out-of-doors  and  peered  cautiously  about.  There  was 
nothing  stirring  save  the  wind  and  the  unseen  leaves  in  the 
forest.  I  primed  my  rifle  and  sheltered  the  pan  under  the 
hollow  of  my  arm,  then  stole  forth  into  the  starlit  road. 

To  gain  the  river,  whence  the  trail  ran  northward  to  the 
Cayuga  camp,  I  was  obliged  to  pass  the  fort,  and  consequent 
ly  the  "  Greathouse  Inn."  But  I  had  no  fear  at  this  hour  o' 
morning,  and  I  trotted  on  along  the  stump  fence  like  a  cub- 
fox  in  his  proper  runway,  until  the  first  curve  in  the  road 
brought  me  to  Greathouse's  inn. 

Shutters  were  drawn  and  bolted  over  every  window,  but 
candle-light  streamed  through  loopholes  in  the  tap-room,  and 
I  could  hear  men  singing  within  and  tapping  on  bowls  with 
spoons : 

"  My  true  love  is  old  Brown  Bess." 

Nosing  the  house  delicately,  I  perceived  odours  of  cooking, 
of  rum  toddy,  and  of  tobacco  smoke.  Clearly  Butler's  com 
pany  were  supping  after  their  long  jog  on  the  back  trail  from 
Fortress  Pitt. 

Satisfied  that  all  was  safe,  I  had  silently  begun  skirting 
the  road  ditch  shadowed  by  the  fence,  when  a  dark  heap, 
which  I  had  taken  for  a  stump  in  the  road,  moved,  rolled 
over,  and  moaned. 

183 


CARDIGAN 

I  stopped,  frozen  motionless.  After  a  moment's  wary  rec 
onnoitring,  I  crept  forward  again  along  the  ditch,  eyes 
fastened  on  the  dim  shape  ahead,  a  human  form  lying  in 
the  black  shadows  of  the  road. 

When  I  came  closer  I  understood.  At  my  feet,  in  a 
drunken  stupor,  sprawled  a  young  Cayuga  girl,  limbs  plas 
tered  with  mud,  body  saturated  and  reeking  with  the  stench 
of  spirits.  Her  black  hair  floated  in  a  pool  of  rain  which 
spread  out  reflecting  stars.  One  helpless  hand  clutched  the 
mud. 

I  lifted  the  little  thing  and  bore  her  to  the  shadow  of  the 
fence;  but  here,  to  my  amazement,  lay  a  drunken  squaw, 
doubtless  her  mother,  still  clinging  to  an  empty  bottle;  and, 
along  the  ditch  and  fence,  flung  in  beastly,  breathing  heaps, 
I  counted  seven  more  barbarians,  old  and  young,  from  the  in 
fant  of  ten  to  the  young  buck  of  twenty,  all  apparently  of 
the  same  family,  and  all  in  a  sodden  swoon. 

This  was  the  work,  then,  done  by  a  single  agent  of  my  Lord 
Dunmore,  Royal  Governor  of  Virginia ! 

Like  torpid  snakes  they  lay  there,  glistening  in  the  grass, 
the  children  naked,  the  mother  in  rags,  breathing  out  poison 
under  the  stars.  The  very  air  of  morn  sweated  rum;  candle 
light  from  the  loopholes  fell  across  the  bodies,  flung  limply 
on  the  grass. 

There  was  nothing  I  could  do  for  these  victims  of  Great- 
house;  no  aid  within  my  power  to  give  them.  Heartsick,  I 
turned  away,  and,  quickening  my  steps,  passed  swiftly  down 
the  muddy  trail,  hastening  to  mend  my  pace  ere  dawn  should 
find  me  missing  at  the  council-fires  burning  for  me  on  the 
dark  Ohio. 

There  were  no  lights  in  the  fort  as  I  passed;  the  flag-staff 
stood  out  bare  against  the  stars.  On  the  epaulement  above 
the  outer  trench  something  moved,  probably  a  sentry. 

But  ere  I  reached  the  Ohio  the  eastern  sky  had  turned 
saffron,  through  which  stars  still  twinkled;  and  the  drifted 
mist-banks  lay  heaped  far  out  across  the  river,  so  I  could  not 
see  the  water,  and  must  follow  its  course  along  the  edge  of 
this  phantom  stream,  whose  current  was  vapour  and  whose 
waves  of  piled-up  clouds  rolled  noiselessly  under  the  stars. 

No  birds  fluted  from  the  mist;  even  the  winds  had  blown 

184 


CARDIGAN 

far  away  somewhere  into  the  gray  morning.  But  the  Cayuga 
trail  was  broad  and  plain,  and  I  took  it  at  a  wolf-trot, 
thoughtfully  reading  its  countless  signs  by  the  yellow  dawn 
as  I  went  along,  marks  of  white  men,  marks  of  moccasins, 
imprint  of  deer  and  cattle,  trail  of  rabbit  and  following  fox, 
and  the  hand-like  traces  of  rambling  raccoons.  On,  on,  north 
upon  the  broad  Cayuga  trail,  while  through  the  brightening 
woods  sleep  fled  with  the  mist  and  the  world  awoke  around 
me.  Land  and  river  roused  with  breathing  and  sigh  and 
scarce-heard  stir;  through  earth  and  water  the  pulse  of  life 
fluttered  and  beat  on,  timed  for  the  moment  by  the  swift 
rhythm  of  my  flying  feet. 

And  now  a  thread  of  blue  smoke,  drawn  far  down  the  trail, 
set  my  nostrils  wide  and  quivering ;  a  flare  of  blinding  yellow 
turned  the  world  into  gold ;  I  had  met  the  sun  at  the  Cayuga 
camp ;  the  tryst  had  been  kept,  thanks  to  the  Lord ! 

Dark,  uncertain  forms  loomed  up  in  the  eye  of  the  sun, 
tall  groups  that  never  moved  as  I  drew  nigh;  men  who  stood 
motionless  as  the  pines  where  the  council-fire  smoked  and 
flashed  like  a  dull  jewel  in  the  sun. 

"  Peace !"  I  said,  halting,  with  upraised  hand.  "  Peace,  you 
wise  men  and  sachems !" 

"  Peace !"  repeated  a  low  voice.    "  Peace,  bearer  of  belts !" 

I  moved  nearer,  head  high,  yet  seeing  in  a  blur,  for  the 
rising  sun  blinded  me.  And  when  I  came  to  the  edge  of  the 
fire,  I  drew  a  white  belt  of  wampum  from  my  'bosom,  and, 
passing  it  through  the  smoke,  held  it  aloft,  flashing  in  the 
sun,  until  every  chief  and  sachem  had  sunk  down  into  their 
blankets,  forming  a  half-circle  before  me. 

A  miracle  of  speech  came  to1  me  like  the  breath  of  my 
body;  easy,  sober,  flowing  words  followed.  I  spoke  as  I  had 
never  dared  hope  I  might  speak.  Forgotten  phrases,  caress 
ing  idioms,  words  long  lost  flew  to  aid  me,  yet  not  so  fast 
that  they  crowded,  stumbling  and  choking  speech. 

As  I  spoke,  sight  slowly  returned  to  my  dazzled  eyes.  I 
saw  the  sachems'  painted  masks,  the  totems  of  three  tribes 
repeated  on  blanket  and  lodge,  the  Cayuga  pipe-symbol  hang 
ing  from  the  lodge  posts,  the  witch-drum  swinging  under  a 
bush,  where  ten  stems  had  been  peeled  ivory  white.  Behind 
all  this  I  saw  the  green  amphitheatre  of  trees,  blue  films  of 

185 


CARDIGAN 

smoke  floating  from  unseen  lodges,  and  over  all  the  radiance 
of  sunrise  painting  earth  and  sky  with  pale  fire. 

Belt  after  belt  I  passed  through  the  fragrant  birch-smoke; 
I  spoke  to  them  as  Sir  William  had  spoken  to  Quider  with 
three  belts,  and  my  words  were  earnest  and  pitiful,  for  my 
heart  was  full  of  tenderness  for  Sir  William  and  for  these 
patient  children  of  his,  these  lost  ones,  so  far  from  the  doors 
of  the  Long  House. 

The  ceremony  of  condolence  was  more  than  a  ceremony  for 
me;  with  eager  sympathy  I  raised  up  the  three  stricken 
tribes;  I  sweetened  the  ashes  of  the  eternal  fires;  I  cleared 
evil  from  the  Cayuga  trail,  and  laid  the  ghastly  ghosts  of 
those  who  stood  in  forest  highways  to  confront  the  fifth  na 
tion  of  the  great  confederacy. 

"  Oonah !  Oonah !"  whimpered  the  wind  in  the  pines,  but 
I  stilled  the  winds  and  purified  them,  and  I  cleansed  the 
million  needles  of  the  pines  with  a  belt  and  an  enchanted 
word. 

The  last  belt  was  passed,  flashing  through  the  smoke;  the 
chief  sachem  of  the  Cayugas  rose  to  receive  it,  a  tall,  with 
ered  man  of  the  Wolf  tribe,  painted  and  draped  in  scarlet. 
His  dim,  wrinkled  eyes  peered  at  me  through  the  smoke. 

For  a  long  time  the  silence  was  broken  only  by  the  rustling 
flames  between  us;  then  the  old  man  placed  the  belt  at  his 
feet,  straightened  up,  and  spoke  feebly : 

"Brother:  It  is  to  be  known  that  the  Six  Nations  never 
meet  in  council  when  mourning,  until  some  brother  speaks 
as  you  have  spoken. 

"Brother:  We  mourn  great  men  dead.  Our  Father, 
through  you,  our  Elder  Brother,  has  purified  our  fires,  our 
throats,  our  eyes.  Where  the  dead  sat  among  us,  three  tribes 
have  you  raised  up. 

"Brother:  Listen  attentively!" 

Behind  him  from  the  great  painted  lodge  nine  Indian  boys 
entered  the  fire-circle  and  stood  proudly  with  folded  arms  and 
heads  erect.  And  the  old  sachem,  in  his  scarlet  robes,  laid 
his  shaking  hand  on  each  youth  as  he  passed,  always  turning 
his  aged  eyes  to  peer  at  me  as  he  repeated  in  his  feeble, 
cracked  voice  of  a  child : 

"  We  acquaint  you  that  one  of  our  sachems,  called  Quider, 

186 


CARDIGAN 

is  dead;  we  raise  up  this  boy  in  his  place  and  give  him  the 
same  name." 

And,  after  each  boy  had  been  named  from  one  of  the  dead 
Cayugas,  he  gave  me  a  string  of  wampum  to  confirm  it,  while 
the  chant  of  condolence  rose  from  the  seated  chiefs  and 
sachems,  a  never-ending  repetition  of  brave  histories,  and 
prophecy  of  brave  deeds  from  the  beginning  of  all  things 
through  the  stilled  centuries  into  the  far  future  locked  in 
silence. 

Hour  after  hour  I  stood  with  bent  head  and  arms  folded 
on  my  breast.  Sometimes  I  prayed  as  I  stood,  that  evil  be 
averted  from  these  wards  of  our  King;  sometimes  I  grew 
hot  with  anger  at  the  men  who  could  so  vilely  misuse  them. 

Dreaming  there  amid  the  scented  birch-smoke,  the  chant 
intoning  with  the  mourning  pines,  sombre  visions  took  shape 
within  my  brain.  I  could  not  lay  these  ghosts,  awful  spectres 
of  ruin  and  death  crowding  around  a  pallid,  flabby,  toothless 
creature  of  silks  and  laces,  my  Lord  Dunmore,  smirking  at 
Terror  wearing  the  merciless  mask  of  Butler. 

Around  me  the  ceremony  of  condolence  seemed  to  change 
to  the  sinister  and  grotesque  Honnonouaroria  or  Dream 
Feast,  with  its  naked  demons  hurling  fire-brands;  I  swayed 
where  I  stood,  then  stumbled  back  out  of  the  scented  smoke 
which  had  nigh  stupefied  me.  I  opened  my  eyes  dizzily.  My 
ears  were  ringing  with  the  interminable  chant : 

"  Sah-e-ho-na, 
Sah-e-ho-na." ' 

I  crossed  my  arms  and  waited,  careful  to  keep  out  of  the 
sweet  smoke  which  had  stolen  away  my  senses  and  set  me 
dreaming  of  horrors. 

The  sun  hung  above  the  pines;  a  slender  purple  cloud 
belted  it,  a  celestial  belt  in  pledge  of  promised  storms,  gath 
ering  somewhere  beyond  the  world's  green  rim. 

I  watched  the  cloud  growing;  the  sun  died  out  through  a 
golden  smother  from  which  plumes  of  vapour  swept  over  the 
heavens,  thickening  till  all  the  sky  was  covered  with  painted 
fleece.  And,  as  I  watched  the  storm's  banners  hanging  from 
midheaven,  the  chant  ended,  and,  in  silence,  three  chiefs  arose 
and  moved  towards  me  through  the  smoke.  One  by  one  they 

187 


CARDIGAN 

spoke  to  me,  naming  themselves:  Yellow  Hand,  Tamarack, 
the  ancient  sachem  robed  in  scarlet,  and  lastly  the  war-chief, 
Sowanowane. 

It  was  Tamarack  who  continued : 

"Brother:  We  have  heard.  The  Three  Ensigns  of  our 
nation  have  heard." 

(A  belt.) 

"Brother:  We  all  bear  patiently  this  great  wrong  done  us 
by  Colonel  Cresap.  We  are  patient  because  Sir  William  asks 
it  of  us.  But  under  these  tall  pines  around  us  lie  hatchets, 
buried  deep  among  the  pine-trees'  roots.  See,  brother !  Our 
hands  are  clean.  We  have  not  dug  in  the  earth  for  hatchets." 
(A  belt  of  seven.) 

"Brother:  We  pray  that  our  elder  cousin,  Lord  Dunmore, 
will  remove  from  us  his  agent  Greathouse.  We  pray  that  no 
more  spirits  be  sold  to  the  Cayugas.  We  pray  this  because 
we  cannot  resist  an  offered  cup.  We  pray  this  because  we 
drink — and  die.  It  is  death  to  us,  death  to  our  children, 
death  to  our  nation." 

(A  llaclc  belt.) 

"Brother:  Bear   our   belts   to    our   Father,    Sir   William 
Johnson,  and  to  our  elder  cousin,  Lord  Dunmore.    Intercede 
with  them  that  they  may  heed  our  prayers." 
(A  bunch  of  three.) 

"Brother:  Depart  in  health  and  honour,  bearing  these 
sacred  belts  of  peace — 

A  frightful  scream  cut  him  short;  scream  after  scream 
arose  from  the  hidden  lodges. 

The  assembly,  gathered  at  the  sanctuary  of  the  council- 
fire,  rose  in  a  body,  blankets  falling  to  the  ground,  paralyzed, 
silent,  while  the  horrid  screaming  rose  to  an  awful,  long- 
drawn  shriek. 

Somebody  was  coming — somebody  plodding  heavily,  shriek 
ing  at  every  step,  nearer,  nearer — an  old  woman  who  stagger 
ed  out  into  the  circle  of  the  council,  dragging  the  limp  body 
of  a  young  girl. 

"  Nine !"  she  gasped.  "  Nine  slain  at  dawn  by  Greathouse ! 
Nine  of  the  family  of  Logan!  Look,  you  wise  men  and 
sachems!  Look  at  Logan's  child!  Dead!  Slain  by  Great- 
house!  Nine!  Mother  and  children  lie  by  the  road,  slain 

188 


CARDIGAN 

as  they  slept;  slain,  sleeping  the  poisoned  sleep  of  Great- 
house!  Dead!  Dead!  Dead!" 

Stupidly  the  sachems  stared  at  the  naked  corpse,  flung  on 
the  blankets  at  their  feet.  The  scented  smoke  curled  over 
the  murdered  child,  blowing  east  and  south. 

Dry-eyed,  sick  with  horror,  I  moved  forward,  and  the  stir 
seemed  to  arouse  the  sachems.  One  by  one  they  looked  down 
at  the  dead,  then  turned  their  flashing  eyes  on  me.  I  strove 
to  speak;  I  could  not  utter  a  sound. 

The  old  sachem  bent  slowly  and  took  a  handful  of  ashes 
from  the  cold  embers.  Then,  rubbing  them  on  his  face,  he 
flung  down  every  belt  I  had  given  him  and  signed  to  me  to 
do  the  same  with  the  belts  delivered  to  me. 

When  I  had  dropped  the  last  belt,  Yellow  Hand  made  a 
sign,  and  every  chief,  save  Sowanowane,  the  war-chief,  covered 
his  head  with  his  blanket.  I  fixed  my  eyes  on  the  war-chief, 
dreading  lest  he  hurl  a  red  belt  at  my  feet.  But  he  only  bent 
his  head,  bidding  me  depart  with  a  gesture.  And  I  went, 
stunned  by  the  calamity  that  had  come  as  lightning  to  blast 
the  work  I  had  done. 

As  I  dragged  myself  back,  heart-broken,  leaden-footed,  be 
hind  me  I  heard  the  death-wail  rising  in  the  forest,  the  hor 
rid  screaming  of  women,  the  fierce  yelps  of  the  young  men, 
the  thump !  thump !  thump !  of  the  drum,  dry  and  sharp  as  a 
squirrel's  barking. 

Utterly  overwhelmed  by  the  catastrophe,  I  wandered  aim 
lessly  into  the  forest  and  sat  down.  Hour  after  hour  I  sat 
there,  and  my  shocked  senses  strove  only  to  find  some  way 
to  avert  the  consequences  of  the  deed  wrought  by  Great- 
house.  But  the  awful  work  had  been  done ;  the  Gordian  knot 
cut ;  my  Lord  Dunmore's  war  had  begun  at  last,  in  deference 
to  my  Lord  Dunmore's  desires,  and  in  accordance  with  his 
plans.  Now,  Cresap  must  fight ;  now,  the  Six  Nations  would 
rise  to  avenge  the  Cayugas  on  the  colonies ;  now,  the  King  of 
England  would  have  the  savage  allies  he  desired  so  ardently, 
and  the  foul  pact  would  be  sealed  with  the  blood  of  Logan's 
children ! 

"  Never,  by  God's  grace!"  I  cried  out,  in  my  agony;  and  I 
stumbled  to  my  feet,  my  head  burning  and  throbbing  as 
though  it  would  burst.  The  woods  had  grown  dim;  the  day 

189 


CARDIGAN 

was  already  near  its  end — this  bloody  day!  this  sad  day  which 
had  dawned  so  hopefully  for  all !  Suddenly  I  began  running 
through  the  forest,  gnashing  my  teeth  and  cursing  the  King 
whom  such  servants  as  Dunmore  served. 

"  Faster,  oh,  faster,"  I  muttered,  as  I  ran ;  "  faster  to  slay 
this  devil,  Butler,  who  has  counselled  Greathouse  to  this 
deed!" 

Again  and  again  I  stumbled  and  fell,  but  rose,  not  feeling 
the  bruises,  crazed  to  do  vengeance  on  the  wicked  men  who 
outraged  God  by  living.  But  truly,  vengeance  is  the  Lord's, 
and  He  alone  may  repay,  nor  was  I  the  instrument  He  chose 
for  His  wrath.  Swiftly  I  ran,  swifter  ran  His  purpose;  for, 
behold !  a  man  rose  up  in  my  path  and  held  me  fast,  a  soldier, 
who  shook  me  and  shouted  at  me  until  my  senses,  which  had 
sped  before  me  with  my  vengeance,  halted  and  returned. 
Presently  I  began  to  understand  his  words,  and  listened. 

"  Are  ye  mad  ?"  he  repeated.  "  Can't  ye  see  the  savages 
across  the  river  following?  The  Cayugas  are  loose  on  the 
Ohio !  It  is  war !" 

Other  men  crept  up  and  dropped  into  cover  behind  the 
trees  around  me;  some  were  colonial  soldiers,  some  farmers 
from  the  camp,  some  hunters  in  wool  shirts  and  caps.  All  at 
once  I  saw  Colonel  Cresap  come  out  into  the  trail  close  by, 
and,  when  he  perceived  me,  he  cried :  "  Logan's  children  have 
been  murdered  by  Greathouse!  The  Cayugas  are  swarming 
on  the  Ohio !" 

I  hastened  to  his  side  and  begged  him  to  let  me  carry 
his  promise  to  the  Cayugas  that  Greathouse  should  be  pun 
ished,  and  that  his  colonists  would  retire.  He  shook  his 
head. 

"  Greathouse  has  fled  to  Pittsburg,"  he  said.  "  I  cannot 
retire  with  my  people  because  they  would  not  follow  me.  It 
is  too  late,  Mr.  Cardigan;  Dunmore  has  sprung  his  trap. 
Ha!  Look  at  that!"  And  he  turned  and  shouted  out  an 
order  to  the  soldiers  around. 

A  dozen  savages,  naked  to  the  waist,  were  fording  the  Ohio 
between  us  and  the  settlement.  Already  the  soldiers  were 
running  through  the  woods  along  the  river  to  head  them  off, 
and  Cresap  started  after  them,  calling  back  for  those  who 
remained  to  guard  the  trail  in  the  rear.  Then  a  rifle  went 

190 


CARDIGAN 

bang !  among  the  trees ;  another  report  rang  out,  followed  in 
stantly  by  twenty  more  in  a  volley. 

Down  a  low  oak  ridge,  close  by,  I  saw  an  Indian  tumbling 
like  a  stone  till  he  fell  with  a  splash  into  a  mossy  hollow  full 
of  rain-water  and  dead  leaves.  After  him  bounded  a  hunter 
in  buckskins,  long  knife  flashing. 

"  Cresap !"  I  panted,  "  don't  let  him  take  that  scalp !  Have 
your  men  gone  mad  ?  You  can  stop  this  war !  It  is  not  too 
late  yet,  but  a  scalp  taken  means  war — God  in  heaven!  a 
scalp  means  war  to  the  death !" 

u  Don't  touch  that  scalp !"  roared  Cresap,  hurrying  towards 
the  ranger,  who  was  kneeling  on  one  knee  beside  the  dead 
Cayuga.  "  Nathan  Giles !  Do  you  hear  me  ?  Let  that  scalp 
alone,  you  bloody  fool!" 

It  was  too  late;  the  ranger  squatted,  wrenching  the  scalp 
free  with  a  ripping  sound,  just  as  Cresap  ran  up  in  a  tower 
ing  rage. 

"  They  take  ours,"  remonstrated  the  ranger,  tying  the 
ghastly  trophy  to  his  belt  by  its  braided  lock  of  hair ;  "  I 
guess  I  have  a  right  to  scalp  my  own  game!"  he  added,  sul 
lenly. 

Cresap  turned  to  me  with  a  gesture  of  despair. 

"You  see,"  he  said;  and  walked  slowly  away  towards  the 
river,  where  the  rifles  were  ringing  out  shot  on  shot  across 
the  shoals  below  the  shallow  camp-ford  on  the  edge  of  the 
roaring  riffles. 

So  now,  at  last,  Lord  Dunmore's  war  had  begun  without 
hope  of  mediation.  Too  late  now  for  embassy  of  peace,  too 
late  for  truce  or  promises  or  the  arbitration  of  fair  speech. 
There  is  nothing  on  earth  to  compensate  for  a  scalp  taken, 
save  a  scalp  taken  in  return.  I  had  failed — failed  totally, 
and  without  hope  of  retrieving  failure.  The  first  attempt 
must  be  the  last.  A  scalp  had  been  taken.  My  mission  was 
at  an  end. 

Ay,  ended  irrevocably  now,  for  all  around  me  firelocks  and 
rifles  were  banging;  the  woods  swam  in  smoke;  the  war-yelp 
sounded  nearer  and  nearer;  the  white  cross-belts  of  the  sol 
diers  glimmered  through  the  trees. 

Too  miserable  to  shun  danger,  I  sat  down  on  a  stone  in 
the  trail,  my  head  in  my  hands,  rifle  across  my  knees.  Pres- 

191 


CARDIGAN 

ently  a  soldier  who  had  heen  standing  near  me,  firing  across 
the  river,  fell  down  with  a  grunt  and  lay  there  flat  on  his 
back. 

I  stared  at  him  stupidly,  not  realizing  that  the  man  was 
dead,  though  out  of  his  head  crawled  a  sluggish,  dark  red 
stream,  dropping  steadily  onto  the  withered  leaves.  It  was 
only  when  a  swift,  dusky  shape  came  creeping  out  of  the 
brush  towards  the  dead  man  that  I  came  to  my  senses  and 
dropped  behind  the  stone  I  had  been  resting  on,  barely  in 
time,  too,  for  a  bullet  came  smack!  against  my  rock,  and 
after  it,  bounding  and  yelping,  flew  an  Indian.  He  was  on 
me  ere  I  could  fire,  one  sinewy  fist  twisted  in  my  hair,  but 
his  knife  snapped  off  short  on  my  rifle-stock,  and  together, 
over  and  over  we  rolled,  down  a  ravine  among  the  willows, 
clawing,  clutching,  strangling  each  other,  till  of  a  sudden 
my  head  struck  a  tree,  crack!  And  I  knew  nothing  after 
that  until  the  cool  rain  beating  in  my  face  awoke  me.  I  lay 
very  still,  listening. 

Somebody  near  by  was  trying  to  light  a  fire ;  I  smelled  the 
flint  and  the  glowing  tinder.  Another  odour  hung  heavily  in 
the  moist  night  air,  the  wild,  rank  scent  of  savage  men, 
strong  and  unmistakable  as  the  odour  of  a  dog-fox  in  March. 

I  began  to  move  noiselessly,  working  my  head  around  so 
that  I  might  see.  My  head  was  aching  heavily;  I  could 
scarce  stir  it.  At  length  I  raised  myself  on  my  hands,  and 
saw  the  spark  from  a  flint  fly  into  a  ball  of  dry  moss  and 
hang  there  like  a  fire-fly  until  the  tiny  circle  of  light  spread 
slowly  into  a  glow,  ringed  with  little  flames  that  ate  their 
way  through  the  tinder-moss. 

A  tufted  head  bobbed  down  beside  the  flame;  unseen  lips 
blew  the  fire  into  a  sudden  blaze  which  brightened  and  flashed 
up,  throwing  ruddy  shadows  over  bush  and  earth. 

Then  I  saw  that  I  lay  on  a  hill-top  in  the  rain,  writh  dark, 
shaggy  bushes  hedging  me.  And  under  every  bush  crouched 
an  Indian,  whose  dusky,  half-naked  body  glistened  with 
paint,  over  which  rain-drops  stood  in  brilliant  beads. 

Leggings,  clouts,  sporrans,  and  moccasins  were  soaked;  the 
slippery,  wet  buckskins  glistened  like  the  hides  of  serpents; 
fringes,  beaded  belts,  and  sheaths  shone  as  tinted  frost 
sparkles  at  sunrise. 

192 


CARDIGAN 

In  the  luminous  shadow  of  the  bushes  I  saw  brilliant  eyes 
watching  me  as  I  dragged  myself  nearer  the  fire.  The  red 
embers'  glow  fell  on  steel  blades  of  hatchets,  bathing  them 
with  blood-colour  to  the  hilts. 

Once,  when  I  attempted  to  sit  up,  an  arm  shot  out  of  the 
shadow,  making  the  sign  for  silence;  and  mechanically  I  re 
peated  the  signal  and  laid  my  head  down  again  on  the  cool, 
wet  ground. 

All  night  I  lay,  perfectly  conscious,  beside  the  Cayuga  fire, 
yet  not  alarmed,  although  a  prisoner. 

The  Cayugas  knew  me  as  a  belt-bearer  from  Sir  William; 
they  could  not  ill-treat  me.  Tamarack,  Yellow  Hand,  and 
Sowanowane  would  vouch  for  me  to  this  party  of  young  men 
who  had  taken  me.  I  had  harmed  none  of  them ;  I  had  barely 
defended  my  life  when  attacked. 

As  I  lay  there  on  the  windy  hill-top,  through  the  rain 
across  the  dim  valley  I  could  see  the  battle-lanthorns  hang 
ing  on  Cresap's  fort,  and  I  could  hear  the  preparations  for  a 
siege,  the  hammering  and  chopping  and  cries  of  teamsters, 
the  rumble  of  wagons  over  the  drawbridge,  the  distant  chal 
lenge  of  guards,  the  murmur  and  dulled  tumult  of  many 
people  hastening  urgent  business. 

Beside  me,  on  their  haunches,  crouched  my  captors,  alert 
and  curious,  dressing  their  ears  to  the  distant  noises.  There 
were  eleven  of  them,  young  men  with  all  their  lives  before 
them  in  which  to  win  the  eagle's  plume ;  eleven  lithe,  muscu 
lar  young  savages,  stripped  to  the  belt,  well  oiled,  crowns 
shaved  save  for  the  lock,  and  every  man  freshly  painted  for 
war.  All  wore  the  Wolf. 

He  who  had  taken  me,  now  carried  my  pouch  and  powder- 
horn  and  bore  my  rifle.  A  scalp  hung  at  his  yellow  girdle, 
doubtless  the  scalp  of  the  soldier  who  had  been  shot  beside 
me  in  the  trail.  I  could  smell  the  pomatum  on  the  queue. 

I  spoke  to  them  calmly,  and  at  first  they  seemed  inclined 
to  listen,  appearing  surprised  at  my  knowledge  of  their 
tongue.  But  they  would  reply  to  none  of  my  questions,  and 
finally  they  silenced  me  with  sullen  threats,  which,  how 
ever,  did  not  disturb  me,  as  I  knew  their  sachems  must  set  me 
free. 

My  head  ached  a  great  deal  from  the  blow  I  had  suffered; 
N  193 


CAKDIGAN 

I  was  willing  enough  to  lie  quietly  and  watch  the  lights  in 
the  fort  through  the  slow  veil  of  falling  rain;  and  presently 
I  fell  asleep. 

The  hot  glare  of  a  torch  awoke  me.  All  around  me  crowded 
masses  of  savages,  young  and  old,  women  and  youths  and 
children.  The  woods  vomited  barbarians;  they  came  in 
packs,  moving  swiftly,  muttering  to  each  other,  and  hastening 
as  though  on  some  pressing  affair. 

Women  near  me  were  digging  a  hole,  and  presently  came  a 
strong  young  girl,  bearing  a  post  of  buckeye,  and  set  it 
heavily  in  the  hole,  fitting  it  while  the  others  stamped  in  the 
mud  around  it  with  naked  feet. 

The  main  crowd,  however,  had  surged  down  into  a  hollow 
to  the  left,  and,  as  I  lay  on  the  ground,  watching  the  shadowy, 
retreating  throng,  of  a  sudden  came  three  Indians  driving 
before  them  a  white  man,  arms  tied,  bloodless  face  stamped 
with  horror  indescribable. 

As  he  passed  the  fire  where  I  lay,  I  thought  his  starting 
eyes  met  mine,  but  he  staggered  on  without  speaking,  down 
into  the  darkness  of  the  hollow.  I  knew  him.  He  was  Na 
than  Giles,  who  had  taken  the  first  scalp  in  Lord  Dunmore's 
war. 

Shuddering,  I  sat  up,  turning  my  head  towards  the  gloom 
below.  There  was  not  a  sound.  I  waited,  straining  eyes  and 
ears.  My  heart  drummed  on  my  ribs.  I  caught  my  breath 
and  clinched  my  hands. 

Without  the  slightest  warning,  the  black  pit  below  burst 
out  in  a  sheet  of  light,  shining  on  a  thousand  motionless 
savages;  and  in  the  centre  of  the  glare  I  saw  a  naked  figure, 
bound  to  a  tree,  twisting  through  smoke-shot  flames. 

For  a  second  only  the  scene  wavered  before  me;  then  I 
gripped  my  temples  and  pressed  my  face  down  into  the  cool, 
wet  grass.  Awful  cries  rang  in  my  ears;  the  garrison  at  the 
fort  heard  them,  too,  for  they  fired  a  cannon,  and  I  heard 
distant  drums  beating  to  arms. 

"  Thus  you  are  to  die,"  repeated  the  Indians  beside  me. 
"  Thus  you  will  die  here  on  this  hill  at  dawn.  Thus  you  will 
suffer  in  plain  view  of  the  fort!  This  for  the  death  of 
Logan's  children !" 

194 


CAKDIGAN 

And  one  to  another  they  said :  "  He  is  weeping.  He  is  a 
woman.  He  will  weep  thus  when  he  burns." 

I  heard  them,  but  what  they  said  left  my  mind  numbed 
and  cold.  For  me  there  was  no  meaning  in  their  words; 
none  at  all.  My  ears  shrank  from  the  awful  cries,  now  pierc 
ing  the  very  clouds  above  me,  hell's  own  solo  accompanied 
by  the  ceaseless,  solemn  murmur  of  the  rain. 

Into  my  nostrils  crept  the  stench  of  burnt  flesh;  it  grew 
stronger  and  stronger.  Silence  fell,  soothed  by  the  whisper 
ing  rain;  then  out  of  the  night  came  the  dull  noise  of  many 
people  stirring.  They  were  coming! 

As  I  rose,  a  Cayuga  youth  seized  me  and  threw  me  heavily 
against  the  post  I  had  seen  the  woman  embed  in  the  mud.  I 
fought  and  strained  and  writhed,  but  they  tied  me,  bracing 
me  up  stiff  against  the  wet  stake,  trussed  like  a  fowl  for 
basting. 

Around  me  the  crowd  was  thickening ;  hundreds  of  tongues 
loaded  me  with  insults;  thrice  a  young  girl  reached  out  and 
struck  me  in  the  face. 

They  had  begun  piling  wood  around  my  feet,  and  stuffing 
the  spaces  full  of  dry  moss,  but  before  the  heap  reached  my 
knees  they  decided  to  face  me  towards  the  fort,  so  the  work 
accomplished  had  to  be  undone,  my  bonds  loosened  and  re- 
tied,  and  my  body  shifted  to  breast  the  south. 

Through  the  falling  rain  I  saw  morning  lurking  behind 
the  eastern  hills,  and  I  cursed  it,  for  the  shock  and  terror 
had  driven  me  out  of  my  senses.  I  remember  hearing  a  voice 
calling  on  God,  but  for  a  long  time  I  did  not  know  the  voice 
was  mine.  It  was  only  when  the  same  young  girl  who  had 
struck  me  lighted  a  splinter  of  yellow  pine  and  thrust  it 
through  my  arm  that  my  senses  returned.  I  opened  my  eyes 
as  from  a  swoon,  seeing  clearly  the  faces  around  me,  red 
under  the  torches.  And  foremost  among  those  in  front  stood 
Tamarack  in  his  scarlet  robes,  just  as  I  had  seen  him  at  dawn 
through  the  smoke  of  the  sacred  fire.  Now  my  voice  came 
back,  seeking  my  lips ;  my  parched  tongue  moved,  and  I  called 
on  Tamarack  to  hear  me,  but  he  shook  his  head,  though  I  ad 
jured  him  by  the  belts  I  had  borne  and  received,  by  the 
sanctuary  of  the  council-fire  whose  smoke  I  had  sweetened, 
and  by  the  three  tribes  I  had  raised  up. 

195 


CARDIGAN 

"  Lies,"  he  said ;  "  you  come  not  from  Johnstown !  Your 
belts  are  lies;  your  words  lie;  your  tongue  is  forked!  You 
come  from  Cresap!  Cresap  shall  see  how  you  can  die  for 
him  !" 

"  I  speak  the  truth !"  I  cried  out,  in  my  agony.  "  I  am  a 
belt-bearer!  I  have  laid  the  ghosts  of  your  slain  ones!  Who 
dares  send  my  spirit  to  teach  your  dead  that  you  betray  their 
ashes  ?" 

There  was  a  dead  silence.  Presently  somebody  in  the 
throng  said,  distinctly :  "  If  he  speaks  the  truth,  let  him  go. 
We  honour  our  dead."  And  other  voices  repeated : 

"  We  honour  our  dead." 

"  He  lies,"  said  Tamarack. 

"  I  speak  truth!"  I  groaned.  "  If  you  honour  your  dead,  if 
you  honour  those  whom  I  have  raised  up  in  their  places,  free 
me,  brothers  of  the  Cayugas!" 

"  Free  him !"  cried  many. 

For  a  space  the  throng  was  quiet,  then  a  distant  movement 
to  my  left  made  me  turn  hopefully.  The  throng  wavered, 
parted,  opened,  and  a  white  man  came  elbowing  his  way  to 
the  stake. 

He  whispered  to  Tamarack ;  the  aged  sachem  stretched  out 
his  arm,  making  a  mystic  sign. 

Eagerly  the  white  man  turned  and  looked  at  me,  and  I  cried 
out  with  rage  and  horror,  for  I  was  face  to  face  with  Walter 
Butler. 

He  spoke,  but  I  scarcely  heard  him  urging  my  death. 

Terror,  which  had  gripped  me,  gave  place  to  fury,  and  that 
in  turn  left  me  faint  but  calm. 

I  heard  the  merciless  words  in  which  he  delivered  me  to 
the  savages;  I  heard  him  denounce  me  as  a  spy  of  Cresap 
and  an  agent  of  rebels.  Then  I  lost  his  voice. 

I  was  very  still  for  a  while,  trying  to  understand  that  I 
must  die.  The  effort  tired  me;  lassitude  weighed  on  me  like 
iron  chains.  To  my  stunned  mind  death  was  but  a  word,  re 
peated  vaguely  in  the  dark  chamber  of  life  where  my  soul 
sat,  listening.  Thought  was  suspended;  sight  and  hearing 
failed;  there  was  a  void  about  me,  blank  and  formless  as  my 
mind. 

Presently  I  became  conscious  that  things  were  changing 

196 


' '  '  SET    FREE    THIS    MAN,    MY    BROTHER 


CARDIGAN 

around  me.  Lights  moved,  voices  struggled  into  my  ears; 
forms  took  shape,  pressing  closer  to  me.  An  undertone,  which 
I  had  heard  at  moments  through  my  stupor,  grew,  swelling 
into  a  steady  whisper.  It  was  the  ceaseless  rustle  of  the  rain. 

A  torch  blazed  up  crackling  close  in  front.  My  eyes  open 
ed  ;  a  thrill  of  purest  fear  set  every  sense  a-quiver.  Amid  the 
dull  roar  of  voices,  I  heard  women  laughing  and  little  chil 
dren  prattling.  Faces  became  painfully  distinct.  I  saw 
Sowanowane,  the  war-chief,  thumb  his  hatchet;  I  saw  But 
ler,  beside  him,  catch  an  old  woman  by  the  arm.  He  told 
her  to  bring  dry  moss.  It  rained,  rained,  rained. 

They  were  calling  to  me  from  the  crowd  now;  everywhere 
voices  were  calling  to  me :  "  Show  us  how  Cresap's  men  die  1" 
Others  repeated :  "  He  is  a  woman ;  he  will  scream  out  1 
Logan's  children  died  more  bravely.  Oonah!  The  children 
of  Logan  1" 

Butler  watched  me  coolly,  leaning  on  his  rifle. 

"  So  this  ends  it,"  he  said,  with  his  deathly  grimace. 
"  Well,  it  was  to  be  done  in  one  way  or  another.  I  had  meant 
to  do  it  myself,  but  this  will  do." 

I  was  too  sick  with  fear,  too  close  to  death,  to  curse  him. 
Pain  often  makes  me  weak;  the  fear  of  pain  sickens  me.  It 
was  that  I  dreaded,  not  death.  Where  my  father  had  gone, 
I  dared  follow,  but  the  flames — the  thought  of  the  fire — 

I  said,  faintly,  "  Turn  your  back  to  me  when  I  die ;  I  have 
much  pain  to  face,  Mr.  Butler ;  I  may  not  bear  it  well." 

"No,  by  God!  I  will  not!"  he  burst  out,  ferociously, 
"  I'm  here  to  see  you  suffer,  damn  you !" 

I  turned  my  head  from  him,  but  he  struck  me  in  the  face 
so  that  my  mouth  was  bathed  in  blood;  twice  he  struck  me, 
crying:  "Listen!  Listen,  I  tell  you!"  And,  planting  him 
self  before  the  stake,  he  cursed  me,  vowing  that  he  could  tear 
me  with  his  bared  teeth  for  hatred. 

"Know  this  before  they  roast  you,"  he  snarled;  "I  shall 
possess  your  pretty  baggage,  Mistress  Warren,  spite  of  Sir 
William!  I  shall  use  her  to  my  pleasure;  I  shall  whip  her 
to  my  feet.  I  may  wed  her,  or  I  may  choose  to  use  her  other 
wise  and  leave  her  for  Dunmore.  Ah !  Ah !  Now  you  rage, 
eh?" 

I  had  hurled  my  trussed  body  forward  on  the  cords,  strug- 

197 


CAKDIGAN 

gling,  convulsed  with  a  fury  so  frantic  that  the  blood  sprayed 
me  where  the  bonds  cut. 

Indians  struck  me  and  thrust  me  back  with  clubs,  for  the 
great  post  at  my  back  had  been  partly  dragged  out  of  its 
socket  by  my  frenzy,  but  I  did  not  feel  the  blows;  I  fixed 
my  maddened  eyes  on  Butler  and  struggled. 

But  now  the  sachems  were  calling  him  sharply,  and  he 
backed  away  from  me  as  the  circle  surged  forward.  Again 
the  girl  came  out,  bearing  a  flaming  fagot.  She  looked  up  at 
me,  laughed,  and  thrust  the  burning  sticks  into  the  moss  and 
tinder  which  was  stacked  around  me.  A  billow  of  black 
smoke  rolled  into  my  face,  choking  and  blinding  me,  and  the 
breath  of  the  flames  passed  over  me. 

Twice  the  rain  quenched  the  fire.  They  brought  fresh 
heaps  of  moss,  laughing  and  jeering.  Through  the  smoke  I 
saw  the  fort  across  the  valley,  its  parapets  crowded  with  peo 
ple.  Jets  of  flame  and  distant  reports  showed  they  were  firing 
rifles,  hoping  perhaps  to  kill  me  ere  the  torture  began.  It 
was  too  far.  The  last  glimpse  of  the  fort  faded  through  the 
downpour;  a  new  pile  of  moss  and  birch-bark  was  heaped  at 
my  feet. 

This  time  the  girl  was  thrust  aside  and  a  young  Indian 
advanced,  waving  a  crackling  branch  of  pitch-pine,  roaring 
with  flames.  As  he  knelt  to  push  it  between  my  feet,  a  ter 
rific  shout  burst  from  the  throng — a  yell  of  terror  and  amaze 
ment.  Through  the  tumult  I  heard  women  screaming;  in 
front  of  me  the  crowd  shrank  away,  huddling  in  groups. 
Some  backed  into  me,  stumbling  among  the  fagots ;  the  young 
Indian  let  his  blazing  pine-branch  fall  hissing  on  the  wet 
ground  and  stood  trembling. 

And  now  into  the  circle  stalked  a  tall  figure,  coming 
straight  towards  me  through  the  sheeted  rain — a  spectre  so 
hideous  that  the  cries  of  terror  drowned  his  voice,  for  he 
was  speaking  as  he  came  on,  moving  what  had  once  been 
a  mouth,  this  dreadful  thing,  all  raw  and  festering  to  the 
bone. 

Two  blazing  eyes  met  mine,  then  rolled  around  on  the 
cringing  throng;  and  a  voice  like  the  voice  of  the  dead  broke 
out: 

"  I  am  come  to  the  judgment  of  this  man  whom  you  burn !" 

198 


CARDIGAN 

"  Quider !"  moaned  the  throng.  "  He  returns  from  the 
grave !  Oonah !  He  returns !" 

But  the  unearthly  voice  went  on  through  the  whimper  of 
the  crowd: 

"  From  the  dead  I  return.  I  return  from  the  north.  Mad 
ness  drove  me.  I  come  without  belts,  though  belts  were 
given. 

"Peace,  you  wise  men  and  sachems!  Set  free  this  man, 
my  brother!" 

"  Quider  I"  I  gasped.    "  Bear  witness." 

And  the  dead  voice  echoed,  hollow: 

"  Brother,  I  witness." 

Trembling  fingers  picked  and  plucked  and  tugged  at  my 
cords;  the  bonds  loosened;  the  sky  spun  round;  down  I  fell, 
face  splashing  in  the  mud. 


CHAPTER   XTI 

HOW  I  managed  to  reach  the  fort,  I  never  knew.  I  do  not 
remember  that  the  savages  carried  me ;  I  have  no  recol 
lection  of  walking.  When  the  gate  lanthorn  was  set  that 
night,  a  sentry  noticed  me  creeping  in  the  weeds  at  the  moat's 
edge.  He  shot  at  me  and  gave  the  alarm.  Fortunately,  he 
missed  me. 

All  that  evening  I  lay  in  a  hot  sickness  on  a  cot  in  the 
casemates.  They  say  I  babbled  and  whimpered  till  the  doctor 
had  finished  cupping  me,  but  after  that  I  rambled  little,  and, 
towards  sunrise,  was  sleeping. 

My  own  memories  begin  with  an  explosion,  which  shook 
my  cot  and  brought  me  stumbling  blindly  out  of  bed,  to  find 
Jack  Mount  firing  through  a  loophole  and  watching  me, 
while  he  reloaded,  with  curious  satisfaction. 

He  guided  me  back  to  my  cot,  and  summoned  the  regi 
ment's  surgeon;  between  them  they  bathed  me  and  fed  me 
and  got  my  shirt  and  leggings  on  me. 

At  first  I  could  scarcely  make  out  to  stand  on  my  legs. 
From  crown  to  sole  I  ached  and  throbbed;  my  vision  was 
strangely  blurred,  so  that  I  saw  things  falling  in  all  direc 
tions. 

I  think  the  regiment's  surgeon,  who  appeared  to  be  very 
young,  was  laying  his  plans  to  bleed  me  again,  but  I  threat 
ened  him  if  he  laid  a  finger  on  me,  and  Mount  protested  that 
I  was  fit  to  fight  or  feast  with  any  man  in  Tryon  County. 

The  surgeon,  saying  I  should  lie  abed,  mixed  me  a  most 
filthy  draught,  which  I  swallowed.  Had  I  been  able,  I  should 
have  chased  him  into  the  forest  for  that  dose.  As  it  was,  I 
made  towards  him  on  wavering  legs,  to  do  him  a  harm,  where 
upon  he  went  out  hastily,  calling  me  an  ass.  Mount  linked 
his  great  arm  in  mine,  and  helped  me  up  to  the  parapet, 

200 


CARDIGAN 

where  the  Virginia  militia  were  firing  by  platoons  into  the 
forest. 

The  freshening  morning  was  lovely  and  sweet ;  the  west 
winds  poured  into  me  like  wine.  I  lay  on  the  platform  for 
a  while,  peering  up  at  the  flag  flapping  above  me  on  its  pine 
staff,  then  raised  up  on  my  knees  and  looked  about. 

Bands  of  shadow  and  sunlight  lay  across  the  quiet  forests; 
the  calm  hills  sparkled.  But  the  blackened  clearing  around 
the  fort  was  alive  with  crawling  forms,  moving  towards 
the  woods,  darting  from  cover  to  cover,  yet  always  advanc 
ing.  They  were  Cresap's  Maryland  riflemen,  reconnoitring 
the  pines  along  the  river,  into  which  the  soldiers  beside  me 
on  the  parapet  were  showering  bullets. 

It  was  pretty  to  watch  these  Virginia  militia  fire  by 
platoon  under  instructions  of  a  tall,  young  captain,  who 
lectured  them  as  jealously  as  though  they  were  training  on 
the  parade  below. 

"  Too  slow!"  he  said.  "  Try  it  again,  lads,  smartly!  smart 
ly!  'Tention!  Handle — cartridge!  Too  slow,  again!  As 
you  were — ho !  When  I  say  '  cartridge !'  bring  your  right 
hand  short  'round  to  your  pouch,  slapping  it  hard;  seize  the 
cartridge  and  bring  it  with  a  quick  motion  to  your  mouth; 
bite  off  the  top  down  to  the  powder,  covering  it  instantly 
with  your  thumb.  Now!  'Tention!  Handle — cartridge! 
Prime!  Shut — pan!  Charge  with  cartridge — ho!  Draw — 
rammer!  Ram — cartridge!  Return — rammer!  Shoulder — 
arms !  Front  rank — make  ready !  Take  aim — fire !" 

Bang!  bang!  went  the  rifles;  the  parapet  swam  in  smoke. 
Bang !  The  second  rank  fired  as  one  man,  and  the  crash  was 
echoed  by  the  calm,  clear  voice :  "  Half-cock  arms — ho ! 
Handle — cartridge !  Prime !" 

And  so  it  went  on ;  volley  after  volley  swept  the  still  pines 
until  a  thundering  report  from  the  brass  cannon  ended  the 
fusillade,  and  we  leaned  out  on  the  epaulement,  watching  the 
riflemen  who  were  now  close  to  the  lead-sprayed  woods. 

The  banked  cannon-smoke  came  driving  back  into  our 
faces;  all  was  a  choking  blank  for  a  moment.  Presently, 
through  the  whirling  rifts,  we  caught  glimpses  of  blue  sky 
and  tree-tops,  and  finally  of  the  earth.  But  what  was  that  ? — 
what  men  were  those  running  towards  us  ? — what  meant  that 

201 


CARDIGAN 

distant  crackle  of  rifles  ? — those  silvery  puffs  of  smoke  fring 
ing  the  entire  amphitheatre  of  green,  north,  east,  west — ay, 
and  south,  too,  behind  our  very  backs? 

"  Down  with  your  drawbridge !"  thundered  the  officer  com 
manding  the  gun-squad.  I  saw  Cresap  come  running  along 
the  parapet,  signalling  violently  to  the  soldiers  below  at  the 
sallyport.  Clank!  clank!  went  the  chain-pulleys,  and  the 
bridge  fell  with  a  rush  and  a  hollow  report,  raising  a  cloud 
of  amber  dust. 

"  My  God !"  shouted  an  officer.    "  See  the  savages !" 

"  See  the  riflemen,"  mimicked  Mount,  at  my  elbow.  "  I 
told  Cresap  to  wait  till  dark." 

Along  the  parapets  the  soldiers  were  firing  frenziedly;  the 
quick  cannon-shots  shook  the  fort,  smothering  us  with  smutty 
smoke.  I  had  a  glimpse,  below  me,  of  Cresap  leading  out  a 
company  of  soldiers  to  cover  the  flight  of  his  riflemen,  and  at 
intervals  I  saw  single  Indians,  kneeling  to  fire,  then  spring 
ing  forward,  yelping  and  capering. 

A  tumult  arose  below.  Back  came  the  riflemen  pell-mell, 
into  the  fort,  followed  by  the  militia  company  at  quick  time. 
The  chains  and  pulleys  clanked;  the  bridge  rose,  groaning 
on  its  hinges. 

It  was  now  almost  impossible  to  perceive  a  single  savage, 
not  only  because  of  the  rifle-smoke,  but  also  because  they 
had  taken  cover  like  quail  in  a  ploughed  field.  Every  charred 
tree-root  sheltered  an  Indian ;  the  young  oats  were  alive  with 
them;  they  lay  among  the  wheat,  the  bean-poles;  they 
crouched  behind  manure-piles;  they  crawled  in  the  beds  of 
ditches. 

"  Are  all  the  settlers  in  the  fort?"  I  asked  Mount,  who  was 
leaning  over  the  epaulement,  waiting  patiently  for  a  mark. 

"  Every  man,  woman,  and  child  came  in  last  night,"  he 
said.  "  If  any  have  gone  out  it's  against  orders,  and  their 
own  faults.  Ho!  Look  yonder,  lad!  Oh,  the  devils!  the 
devils !"  And  he  fired,  with  an  oath  on  his  lips. 

A  house  and  barn  were  suddenly  buried  in  a  cloud  of  pitchy 
vapour;  a  yoke  of  oxen  ran  heavily  across  a  field;  puffs  of 
smoke  from  every  rut  and  gully  and  bush  showed  where  the 
Indians  were  firing  at  the  terrified  beasts. 

One  ox  went  down,  legs  shot  to  pieces;  the  other  stood 

202 


'"THEY'VE  HIT  HIM,'  SAID  MOUJST,  RELOADING  HASTILY" 


.  .  . 


CARDIGAN 

bellowing  pitifully.  Then  the  tragedy  darkened;  a  white 
man  crept  out  of  the  burning  barn  and  started  running  tow 
ards  the  fort. 

"  The  fool !"  said  Mount.  "  He  went  back  for  his  oxen ! 
Oh,  the  fool!" 

I  could  see  him  distinctly  now;  he  was  a  short,  fat  man, 
bare-legged  and  bare-headed.  As  he  ran  he  looked  back  over 
his  shoulder  frequently.  Once,  when  he  was  climbing  a  fence, 
he  fell,  but  got  on  his  legs  again  and  ran  on,  limping. 

"They've  hit  him,"  said  Mount,  reloading  hastily;  "look! 
He's  down !  He's  done  for !  God !  They've  got  him !" 

I  turned  my  head  aside;  when  I  looked  for  the  poor  fellow 
again,  I  could  only  see  a  white  patch  lying  in  the  field,  and 
an  Indian  slinking  away  from  it,  shaking  something  at  the 
fort,  while  the  soldiers  shot  at  him  and  cursed  bitterly  at 
every  shot. 

"  It's  Nathan  Giles's  brother,"  said  a  soldier,  driving  his 
cartridge  down  viciously.  "  Can't  some  o'  you  riflemen  reach 
him  with  old  Brown  Bess  '?" 

The  report  of  Mount's  rifle  answered;  the  Indian  stag 
gered,  turned  to  run,  reeled  off  sideways,  and  fell  across  a 
manure-heap.  After  a  moment  he  rose  again  and  crawled 
behind  it. 

And  now,  house  after  house  burst  into  black  smoke  and 
spouts  of  flame.  Through  the  spreading  haze  we  caught  fleet 
ing  glimpses  of  dark  figures  running,  and  our  firelocks  banged 
out  briskly,  but  could  neither  hinder  nor  stay  the  doom  of 
those  poor,  rough  homes.  Fire  leaped  like  lightning  along 
the  pine  walls,  twisting  in  an  instant  into  a  column  of 
pitchy  smoke  tufted  with  tongues  of  flame.  Over  the  whirl 
ing  cinders  distracted  pigeons  circled;  fowls  fluttered  out  of 
burning  barns  and  ran  headlong  into  the  woods.  Somewhere 
a  frightened  cow  bellowed. 

Under  cover  of  the  haze  and  smoke,  unseen,  the  Indians 
had  advanced  near  enough  to  send  arrows  into  the  parade 
below  us,  where  the  women  and  children  and  the  cattle  were 
packed  together.  One  arrow  struck  a  little  girl  in  the  head, 
killing  her  instantly;  another  buried  itself  in  the  neck  of  a 
bull,  and  a  terrible  panic  followed,  women  and  children  flee 
ing  to  the  casemates,  while  the  maddened  bull  dashed  about, 

203 


CARDIGAN 

knocking  down  horses,  goring  sheep  and  oxen,  trampling 
through  bundles  of  household  goods  until  a  rifleman  shot  him 
through  the  eye  and  cut  his  throat. 

Soldiers  and  farmers  were  now  hastening  to  the  parapets, 
carrying  buckets  and  jars  of  water,  for  Cresap  feared  the 
sparks  from  the  burning  village  might  fall  even  here.  But 
there  was  worse  danger  than  that:  an  arrow,  tipped  with 
blazing  birch-bark,  fell  on  the  parapet  between  me  and 
Mount,  and,  ere  I  could  pick  it  up,  another  whizzed  into  the 
epaulement,  setting  fire  to  the  logs.  Faster  and  faster  fell 
the  flaming  arrows ;  a  farmer  and  three  soldiers  were  wound 
ed  ;  a  little  boy  was  pierced  in  his  mother's  arms.  No  sooner 
did  we  soak  out  the  fire  in  one  spot  than  down  rushed  an 
other  arrow  whistling  with  flames,  and  we  all  ran  to  extin 
guish  the  sparks  which  the  breeze  instantly  blew  into  a  glow. 

I  had  forgotten  my  bruises,  my  weakness,  and  fatigue; 
aches  and  pains  I  no  longer  felt.  The  excitement  cured  me 
as  no  blood-letting  popinjay  of  a  surgeon  could,  and  I  found 
myself  nimbly  speeding  after  the  fiery  arrows  and  knocking 
out  the  sparks  with  an  empty  bucket. 

Save  for  the  occasional  rifle-shots  and  the  timorous  whinny 
of  horses,  the  fort  was  strangely  quiet.  If  the  women  and 
children  were  weeping  in  the  casemates,  we  on  the  ramparts 
could  not  hear  them.  And  I  do  not  think  they  uttered  a 
complaint.  We  hurried  silently  about  our  work;  no  officers 
shouted;  there  was  small  need  to  urge  us,  and  each  man 
knew  what  to  do  when  an  arrow  fell. 

All  at  once  the  fiery  shower  ceased.  A  soldier  climbed  the 
flag-pole  to  look  out  over  the  smoke,  and  presently  he  called 
down  to  us  that  the  savages  were  falling  back  to  the  forest. 
Then  our  cannon  began  to  flash  and  thunder,  and  the  militia 
fell  in  for  volley-firing  again,  while,  below,  the  drawbridge 
dropped  once  more,  and  our  riflemen  stole  out  into  the  haze. 

I  was  sitting  on  the  parapet,  looking  at  Boyd's  inn,  "  The 
Leather  Bottle,"  which  was  on  fire,  when  Mount  and  Cade 
Renard  came  up  to  me,  carrying  a  sheaf  of  charred  arrows 
which  they  had  gathered  on  the  parade. 

"  I  just  want  you  to  look  at  these,"  began  Mount,  dumping 
the  arrows  into  my  lap.  "  The  Weasel,  he  says  you  know 
more  about  Indians  than  we  do,  and  I  don't  deny  it,  seeing 

204 


CARDIGAN 

you  lived  at  Johnstown  and  seem  so  fond  of  the  cursed  hell 
hounds — " 

"  He  wants  you  to  read  these  arrows,"  interrupted  the 
Weasel,  dryly ;  "  no,  not  the  totem  signs.  What  tribes  are 
they?" 

"  Cayuga,"  I  replied,  wondering.  "  Cayuga,  of  course — 
wait ! — why,  this  is  a  Seneca  war-arrow ! — you  can  see  by  the 
shaft  and  nock  and  the  quills  set  inside  the  fibres !" 

"  I  told  you !"  observed  the  Weasel,  grimly  nudging  Mount. 

Mount  stood  silent  and  serious,  watching  me  picking  up 
arrow  after  arrow  from  the  charred  sheaf  on  my  knees. 

"  Here  is  a  Shawanese  hunting-shaft,"  I  said,  startled, 
"  and — and  this — this  is  a  strange  arrow  to  me !" 

I  held  up  a  slender,  delicate  arrow,  beautifully  made  and 
tipped  with  steel. 

"  That,"  said  Mount,  gravely,  "  is  a  Delaware  arrow." 

"  The  Lenape !"  I  cried,  astonished.  Suddenly  the  terrible 
significance  of  these  blackened  arrows  came  to  me  like  a  blow. 
The  Lenni-Lenape  had  risen,  the  Senecas  and  Shawanese  had 
joined  the  Cayugas.  The  Long  House  was  in  revolt. 

"  Mount,"  I  said,  quietly,  "  does  Colonel  Cresap  know 
this?" 

The  Weasel  nodded. 

"  We  abandon  the  fort  to-night,"  he  said.  "  We  can't  face 
the  Six  Nations — here." 

"We  make  for  Pittsburg,"  added  Mount.  "It  will  be  a 
job  to  get  the  women  and  children  through.  Cresap  wishes 
to  see  you,  Mr.  Cardigan.  You  will  find  him  laying  fuses  to 
the  magazine." 

They  piloted  me  to  the  casemates  and  around  the  barracks 
to  the  angle  of  the  fort,  where  a  stockade  barred  the  passage 
to  the  magazine.  The  sentry  refused  us  admittance,  but 
Corporal  Cloud  heard  us  and  opened  the  stockade  gate,  where 
we  saw  Cresap  on  his  hands  and  knees,  heaping  up  loose 
powder  into  a  long  train.  He  glanced  up  at  us  quietly;  his 
thin,  grave  face  was  very  pale. 

"  Am  I  right  about  those  arrows  ?"  he  asked  Mount. 

"  Mr.  Cardigan  says  there's  a  Seneca  war-arrow  among  'em, 
too,"  replied  Mount. 

Cresap's  keen  eyes  questioned  me. 

205 


CARDIGAN 

"  It's  true,"  I  said.  "  The  Senecas  guard  the  western  door 
of  the  Long  House,  and  they  have  made  the  Cayugas'  cause 
their  own." 

"  And  the  eastern  door  ?"  demanded  Cresap,  quickly. 

"  The  eastern  door  of  the  Long  House  is  held  by  our  Mo 
hawks  and  Sir  William  Johnson,"  I  said,  proudly.  "  And,  by 
God's  grace !  they  will  hold  it  in  peace." 

"Not  while  Walter  Butler  lives,"  said  Cresap,  bitterly, 
rising  to  his  feet  and  turning  the  key  of  the  magazine. 
"  Throw  that  key  into  the  moat,  corporal,"  he  said.  "  Mount, 
get  some  riflemen  and  roll  these  kegs  of  powder  into  the 
casemates. 

"  You  know,"  he  observed,  turning  to  me,  "  that  we  aban 
don  the  fort  to-night.  It  means  the  end  of  all  for  me.  I 
shall  receive  all  the  blame  for  this  war;  the  disgrace  will  be 
laid  on  me.  But  let  Dunmore  beware  if  he  thinks  to  deprive 
me  of  command  over  my  riflemen!  I've  made  them  what 
they  are — not  for  my  Lord  Dunmore,  but  for  my  country, 
when  the  call  to  arms  peals  out  of  every  steeple  from  Maine 
to  Virginia." 

Cloud  lifted  his  hat.  "Please  God,  those  same  bells  will 
ring  before  I  die,"  he  said,  serenely. 

"They'll  ring  when  the  British  fleet  sights  Boston,"  ob 
served  the  Weasel. 

"  They'll  ring  loud  enough  for  Harrod  and  Dan  Boone  to 
hear  'em  on  the  Kentucky,"  added  Mount. 

I  said  nothing,  but  looked  down  at  the  powder  trail,  which 
led  into  the  magazine  through  a  hole  under  the  heavy  double 
door.  Cresap  pushed  the  heap  of  powder  with  his  foot. 

"Ah,  well,"  he  said,  "it's  liberty  or  death  for  all  save 
human  cattle — liberty  or  death,  sure  enough,  as  the  Vir 
ginian  puts  it." 

"Patrick  Henry  is  in  Pittsburg,"  began  Mount;  but 
Cresap  went  on  without  heeding  him :  "  Patrick  Henry  has 
given  my  riflemen  their  watchword;  and  the  day  that  sees 
them  marching  north  will  find  that  watchword  lettered  on  the 
breast  of  every  hunting-shirt — Liberty  or  Death." 

Turning  his  clear  eyes  on  me,  he  said,  "  You  will  be  with 
us,  will  you  not,  sir  ?" 

"  My  father  fought  at  Quebec,"  I  answered,  slowly. 

206 


CARDIGAN 

"And  ray  father  yonder  at  Fort  Pitt,  when  it  was  Fort 
Duquesne,  not  under  Braddock,  but  in  '58,  when  the  British 
razed  the  French  works  and  built  Fortress  Pitt  on  the  ruins. 
What  of  it  ?  Your  father  and  my  father  fought  for  England. 
They  were  Englishmen.  Let  us,  who  are  Americans,  imitate 
our  fathers  by  fighting  for  America.  We  could  do  their 
memory  no  truer  honour." 

"  I  have  not  made  up  my  mind  to  fight  our  King,"  I  an 
swered,  slowly.  "But  I  have  determined  to  fight  his  deputy, 
Lord  Dunmore." 

"  And  all  his  agents  ?"  added  Mount,  promptly. 

"  You  mean  Dunmore's  ?"  I  asked. 

"  The  King's,"  said  Cloud. 

"Yes,  the  King's,  too,  if  they  interfere  with  my  people!" 
I  blurted  out. 

"  Oh,  I  think  you  will  march  with  us  when  the  time  comes," 
said  Cresap,  with  one  of  his  rare  smiles;  and  he  led  the  way 
out  of  the  stockade,  cautioning  us  to  step  clear  of  the  powder. 

"  Cut  a  time-fuse  for  the  train  and  bring  it  to  me  at  the 
barracks,"  he  said  to  Cloud;  and,  saluting  us  thoughtfully, 
he  entered  the  casemates,  where  the  women  and  children  were 
gathered  in  tearful  silence. 

I  heard  him  tell  the  poor  creatures  that  their  homes  had 
gone  up  in  smoke;  that,  for  the  moment,  it  was  necessary  to 
retire  to  Fort  Pitt,  and  that  each  family  might  take  only 
such  household  implements  and  extra  clothing  as  they  could 
carry  in  their  arms. 

There  was  not  a  whimper  from  the  women,  only  quiet  tears. 
Even  the  children,  looking  up  solemnly  .at  Cresap,  bravely 
stifled  the  sobs  of  fear  that  crowded  into  every  little  throat. 

The  day  wore  away  in  preparation  for  the  march.  I  had 
nothing  to  prepare ;  I  had  lost  my  rifle  and  ammunition  when 
a  prisoner  among  the  Cayugas,  and  my  spare  clothing  and 
provisions  when  Boyd's  Inn  was  burned.  Fortunately,  Boyd 
had  buckled  on  my  money-belt  for  safe  keeping,  and  the 
honest  old  man  delivered  it  to  me,  condoling  with  me  for  the 
loss  of  my  clothing  and  food;  and  never  a  word  of  complaint 
for  his  own  loss  of  home  and  bed  and  everything  he  owned 
in  the  world,  nor  would  he  accept  a  shilling  from  me  to  aid 
him  towards  a  new  beginning  in  life. 

207 


CAKDIGAN 

"  I  am  only  seventy-three,"  he  said,  coolly ;  "  when  these 
arms  of  mine  cannot  build  me  a  home,  let  them  fashion  my 
coffin!" 

And  he  picked  up  his  long  rifle  and  walked  away  to  help 
load  the  ox-teams  with  powder,  ball,  and  provisions. 

One  thing  that  Mount  told  me  aroused  my  anger  and  con 
tempt  :  there  was  now  not  a  Tory  left  among  Cresap's  people ; 
all  had  fled  when  Greathouse  fled,  proving  clearly  that,  if  all 
had  not  aided  in  the  slaughter  of  Logan's  children,  they  at 
least  had  been  informed  of  the  plot  and  had  probably  been 
warned  that  the  murderous  deed  would  be  laid  at  Tory  doors. 

Towards  dusk  our  scouts  began  to  come  in,  one  by  one,  with 
sad  stories  concerning  the  outlying  settlements  and  lonely 
farms.  One  had  seen  a  charred  doorway  choked  with  dead 
children,  all  scalped;  another,  lying  hid,  saw  a  small  war- 
party  pass  with  eighteen  fresh  scalps,  three  of  them  taken 
from  women  and  little  girls;  a  third  vowed  that  the  Oneidas 
had  joined  in,  and  he  exhibited  a  moccasin  that  he  had  found, 
as  proof.  But  when  I  saw  the  moccasin,  I  knew  it  to  be  Mo 
hawk,  and  it  troubled  me  greatly,  yet  I  did  not  inform  Cresap, 
because  I  could  not  believe  our  Mohawks  had  risen. 

At  nine  o'clock  the  postern  was  opened  quietly,  and  the 
first  detachment  of  riflemen  left  the  fort,  stealing  out  into 
the  starlight,  weapons  at  a  trail.  When  the  scouts  returned 
to  say  that  the  coast  was  clear,  the  column  started  in  perfect 
silence.  First  marched  a  company  of  Maryland  riflemen; 
after  them  filed  the  ox-teams,  loaded  with  old  women  and 
very  small  children,  the  wagons  rolling  on  muffled  wheels; 
then  followed  a  company  of  Virginia  militia,  and  after  them 
came  more  ox-teams  piled  with  ammunition  and  stores,  and 
accompanied  by  young  women  and  grown  children.  The  rear 
was  covered  by  the  bulk  of  the  militia  and  riflemen,  with  our 
brass  cannon  dragged  by  the  only  horse  in  the  ill-fated  town. 

When  the  rear-guard  had  disappeared  in  the  darkness, 
Cresap,  Mount,  Cade  Renard,  and  I  bolted  the  gates,  drew 
up  the  drawbridge,  locked  it,  and  dropped  the  keys  into  the 
moat.  Then  Cresap  and  Mount  ran  across  the  parade  tow 
ards  the  magazine,  while  we  tied  a  knotted  rope  to  the  south 
ern  parapet  and  shook  it  free  so  that  it  hung  to  the  edge  of 
thf  Counter-scarp  below. 

208 


CAKDIGAN 

Presently  Mount  came  hurrying  back  across  the  parade 
and  up  the  scarp  to  where  we  stood,  bidding  us  hasten,  for 
the  fuse  was  afire  and  might  burn  more  quickly  than  we  ex 
pected. 

Down  the  rope,  hand  over  hand,  tumbled  the  Weasel,  and 
then  Mount  motioned  me  to  go.  But  just  as  I  started,  up 
above  my  head  in  the  darkness  I  heard  the  flag  flapping;  I 
paused,  then  stepped  towards  the  pole. 

"  The  flag,"  I  said.    "  You  have  forgotten  it— 

"It's  only  the  damned  British  flag!"  said  Mount.  "Down 
the  rope  with  you,  lad !  Do  you  want  to  keep  us  till  the  fort 
blows  up  ?" 

"  I  can't  leave  the  flag,"  I  said,  doggedly. 

"  To  hell  with  it !"  retorted  Mount,  fiercely,  and  pushed  me 
towards  the  rope. 

"  Let  me  alone !"  I  flashed  out,  backing  towards  the  flag 
pole. 

"  Oh,  go  to  the  devil  your  own  way,"  growled  Mount, 
but  I  saw  he  did  not  leave  the  rampart  while  I  was  lowering 
the  flag  and  ripping  it  from  the  halyards. 

Cresap  came  rushing  up  the  scarp  as  I  stuffed  the  flag  into 
the  breast  of  my  hunting-shirt. 

"  Are  you  mad  ?"  he  cried.  "  Down  the  rope  there,  Cardi 
gan  !  Follow  him  for  your  life,  Jack  Mount !" 

And  down  I  scrambled,  followed  by  Mount  and  Cresap, 
and  we  all  ran  as  though  the  Six  Nations  were  at  our  heels. 

In  the  dark  we  passed  a  rifleman  who  scampered  on  ahead 
to  pilot  us,  and  after  ten  minutes  at  top  speed  we  joined  the 
rear-guard  and  fell  in  with  the  major,  panting. 

"A  slick  trick  you  played,"  grunted  Mount',  "with  that 
bloody  British  flag." 

"  It  was  mine,  once,"  I  retorted,  hotly. 

"  Oh,  you  would  blow  us  all  up  for  it,  eh  ?"  asked  the  big 
fellow,  pettishly.  "  Well,  you  be  damned,  and  your  flag,  too !" 

His  voice  was  blotted  out  in  a  roar  which  shook  the  solid 
forest ;  a  crimson  flame  shot  up  to  the  stars ;  then  thunderous 
darkness  buried  us. 

Half-smothered  cries  and  shrieks  came  from  the  long  con 
voy  ahead,  but  these  were  quickly  silenced,  the  frightened 
oxen  subdued,  and  the  column  hastened  on  into  the  night, 
o  209 


CARDIGAN 

"  Now  that  the  fort's  exploded,  look  out  for  the  Iroquois," 
said  Mount,  steadying  his  voice  with  an  effort. 

Cresap  had  given  me  a  rifle.  I  halted  to  load  it,  then  ran 
on  to  join  Mount  and  Renard.  We  plodded  on  in  silence  for 
a  while.  Presently  Mount  asked  me  what  I  meant  to  do  in 
Pittsburg. 

"  I  mean  to  see  Lord  Dunmore,"  I  replied,  quietly. 

Mount  pretended  to  fear  for  his  Lordship's  scalp,  but  I  was 
in  no  humour  for  jesting,  and  I  said  no  more. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  to  old  Dunmore  ?"  urged  the 
big  fellow,  curiously. 

"  See  here,  my  good  man,"  said  I,  "  you  are  impertinent. 
I  am  an  accredited  deputy  of  Sir  William  Johnson,  and  my 
business  is  his." 

"  You  need  not  be  so  surly,"  grumbled  Mount. 

"You've  hurt  his  feelings,"  observed  the  Weasel,  trotting 
at  my  heels. 

"Whose?  Mount's?"  I  asked.  "  Well,  I  am  sorry.  I  did 
not  mean  to  hurt  you,  Mount." 

"That's  all  very  well,  but  you  did,"  said  Mount.  "I've 
got  feelings,  too,  just  as  much  as  the  Weasel  has." 

"  No,  you  haven't,"  said  the  Weasel,  hastily.  "  I'm  a  ruined 
man,  and  you  know  it.  Haven't  I  been  through  enough  to 
give  me  sensitive  feelings  ?" 

Mount  nudged  me.  "  He's  thinking  of  his  wife  and  baby," 
he  said.  "  Talk  to  him  about  them.  He  likes  it.  It  harrows 
him,  doesn't  it,  Cade  ?" 

"  It  hurts  fearful,"  replied  the  Weasel,  looking  up  at  me 
hopefully. 

"You  had  a  lovely  wife,  didn't  you,  Cade?"  inquired 
Mount,  sympathetically. 

"  Yes — oh  yes.  And  a  baby  girl,  Jack — don't  forget  the 
baby  girl,"  sniffed  the  Weasel,  trotting  beside  me. 

"  The  baby  must  be  nigh  fifteen  years  old  now,  eh,  Cade  ?" 
suggested  Mount. 

"  Sixteen,  nigh  sixteen,  Jack.    The  cunning  little  thing." 

"  What  became  of  her  ?"  I  asked,  gently. 

"  Nobody  knows,  nobody  knows,"  murmured  the  Weasel. 
"  My  wife  left  me  and  took  my  baby  girl.  Some  say  she 
went  with  one  of  Sir  Peter  Warren's  captains,  some  say  it 

210 


CARDIGAN 

was  an  admiral  who  charmed  her.  I  don't  know.  She  was 
gone  and  the  fleet  was  gone  when  they  told  me." 

He  laid  his  hard  little  hand  on  my  arm  and  looked  up 
with  bright  eyes. 

"  Since  that,"  he  said,  "  I've  been  a  little  queer  in  my  head. 
You  may  have  noticed  it.  Oh  yes,  I've  been  a  little  mad, 
haven't  I,  Jack  ?" 

"  A  little,"  said  Mount,  tenderly. 

"  I  have  not  noticed  it,"  said  I. 

"  Oh,  but  I  have,"  he  insisted.  "  I  talk  with  my  baby  in 
the  woods;  don't  I,  Jack?  And  I  see  her,  too,"  he  added, 
triumphantly.  "  That  proves  me  a  little  mad ;  doesn't  it, 
Jack?" 

"  The  Weasel  was  once  a  gentleman,"  said  Mount,  in  my 
ear.  "  He  had  a  fine  mansion  near  Boston." 

11 1  hear  you !"  piped  the  Weasel.  "  I  hear  you,  Jack.  You 
are  quite  right,  too.  I  was  a  gentleman.  I  have  ridden  to 
hounds,  Mr.  Cardigan,  many  a  covert  I've  drawn,  many  a 
brush  fell  to  me.  I  was  master  of  fox-hounds,  Mr.  Cardigan. 
None  rode  harder  than  I.  I  kept  a  good  cellar,  too,  and  an 
open  house — ah,  yes,  an  open  house,  sir.  And  that  was  where 
ruin  came  in,  finding  the  door  open — and  the  fleet  in  the 
downs." 

"  And  you  came  home  and  your  dear  wife  had  run  away 
with  an  officer  from  Sir  Peter  Warren's  ships — eh,  Cade,  old 
friend?"  said  Mount,  affectionately. 

"  And  took  our  baby — don't  forget  the  baby,  Jack,"  piped 
the  Weasel. 

"  And  if  you  could  only  find  the  man  you'd  slit  his  gullet, 
wouldn't  you,  Cade?"  inquired  Mount,  dropping  one  great 
arm  over  the  Weasel's  shoulder. 

"  Oh,  dear,  yes,"  replied  the  Weasel,  amiably. 

I  had  been  looking  ahead  along  the  line  of  wagons,  where 

lanthorn  was  glimmering.  The  convoy  had  halted,  and 
presently  Mount,  Cade  Renard,  and  I  walked  on  along  the 
ranks  of  resting  troops  and  loaded  wains  until  we  came  to 
where  the  light  shone  on  a  group  of  militia  officers  and  rifle 
men.  Cresap  was  there,  wrapped  in  his  heavy  cloak;  and 
when  he  perceived  me  he  called  me. 

As  I  approached,  followed  naively  by  Mount  and  Renard, 

211 


CARDIGAN 

I  was  surprised  to  see  a  tall  Indian  standing  beside  Cresap, 
muffled  to  the  chin  in  a  dark  blanket. 

"Cardigan,"  said  Cresap,  "my -scouts  found  this  Indian 
walking  ahead  in  the  trail  all  alone.  He  made  no  resistance, 
and  they  brought  him  in.  He  seems  to  be  foolish  or  simple- 
minded.  I  can't  make  him  out.  You  see  he  is  unarmed. 
What  is  he?" 

I  glanced  at  the  tall,  silent  Indian ;  a  glance  was  enough. 

"  This  man  is  a  Cayuga  and  a  chief,"  I  said,  in  a  low 
voice. 

"Speak  to  him,"  said  Cresap;  "he  appears  not  to  under 
stand  me.  I  speak  only  Tuscarora,  and  that  badly." 

I  looked  at  the  silent  Cayuga  and  made  the  sign  of  brother 
hood.  His  dull  eyes  regarded  me  steadily. 

"Brother,"  I  said,  "by  the  cinders  on  your  brow  you 
mourn  for  the  dead." 

"  I  mourn,"  he  replied,  simply. 

"  A  son  ?" 

"  A  family.    I  am  Logan." 

Shocked,  I  gazed  in  pity  on  the  stern,  noble  visage.  So 
this  was  Logan,  the  wretched  man  bereft  of  all  his  loved  ones 
by  Greathouse ! 

I  turned  quietly  to  Cresap. 

"  This  is  the  great  Cayuga  chief,  Logan,  whose  children 
were  murdered,"  I  said. 

Cresap  turned  a  troubled  face  on  the  mute  savage. 

"  Ask  him  where  he  journeys." 

"  Where  do  you  journey,  brother  ?"  I  asked,  gently. 

"  I  go  to  Fort  Pitt,"  he  answered,  without  emotion. 

"To  ask  justice?" 

"  To  ask  it." 

"  God  grant  you  justice,"  I  said,  gravely. 

To  Cresap  I  said,  "He  seeks  justice  at  Fort  Pitt  from 
Lord  Dunmore." 

"  Bid  him  come  with  us,"  replied  Cresap,  soberly.  "  He 
may  not  get  justice  at  Fort  Pitt,  but  there  is  a  higher  Judge 
than  the  Earl  of  Dunmore.  To  Him  I  also  look  for  the 
justice  that  men  shall  deny  me  on  earth." 

I  took  Logan  by  the  hand  and  led  him  into  a  space  behind 
the  wagons.  Here  we  waited  in  silence  until  the  slow  convoy 

212 


CARDIGAN 

moved,  and  then  we  followed  as  mourners  follow  a  casket  to 
the  grave  of  all  their  hopes. 

Hour  after  hour  we  journeyed  unmolested;  the  stars  faded, 
but  it  was  not  yet  dawn  when  a  far  voice  cried  in  the  dark 
ness  and  a  light  moved,  and  we  knew  that  the  warders  of  the 
fortress  were  hailing  our  vanguard  at  the  gates  of  Pittsburg. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

I  AWOKE  in  a  flood  of  brightest  sunshine  which  poured 
over  the  walls  of  my  chamber  and  bathed  the  sweet  lav 
ender-scented  sheets  on  my  bed. 

The  water  in  the  washing-bowl  reflected  the  sunlight,  and 
the  white  ceiling  above  me  wavered  with  golden-netted  rip 
ples.  A  gentle  wind  moved  the  curtains  to  and  fro,  a  brisk 
breeze,  yet  saturated  with  the  disquieting  taint  of  unknown 
odours,  odours  of  a  town  whose  streets  are  thronged  with 
strange  people.  Those  bred  within  the  strip  which  runs 
along  the  borders  of  a  wilderness  find  the  air  of  towns  con 
fusing,  as  a  keen  hound,  running  perdu,  enters  a  vast  run 
way  where  a  thousand  pungent  trails  recross. 

Reconnoitring  the  room  from  my  sunny  couch,  I  poked 
my  sun-warmed  muzzle  out  of  the  sheets,  sniffing  and  in 
specting  the  unfamiliar  surroundings.  Then  I  cautiously 
stretched  my  limbs,  and  finding  myself  supple  and  sound, 
leaped  lightly  onto  the  rag-carpet  in  my  bare  feet  and  stood 
looking  out  of  the  window. 

This  lodging  whither  Mount  and  Renard  had  piloted  me 
when  our  convoy  passed  the  ramparts  of  Fortress  Pitt,  was  an 
inn  called  the  "  Virginia  Arms,"  a  most  clean  and  respectable 
hostelry,  though  sometimes  suspected  as  a  trysting-place  for 
rebels.  James  Rolfe,  a  Boston  man,  was  our  host,  a  thin- 
edged,  mottled,  shrewd-eyed  fellow,  whose  nasal  voice  sounded 
continually  through  the  house  from  tap-room  to  garret,  in 
sarcastic  comment  on  his  servants.  I  heard  him  now  as  I 
stood  at  the  window : 

"  Oh,  Hiram,  yew  dinged  sack  o'  shucks,  the  gentleman  in 
27  is  knocking  on  the  floor!  Jonas!  A  pot  o'  small-beer  for 
the  gentleman  in  17!  Land  o'  Goshen,  yew  run  like  a  frost- 
nipped  spider!  The  gentleman  in  6  is  waiting  for  his  wig! 
What's  that  ?  Waal,  yew  go  right  'round  tew  the  hairdresser's 

214 


CARDIGAN 

and  tell  him  tew  bring  that  wig !  Hey  ?  Yes,  the  wig  dressed 
a-lar-Francy !  Don't  set  there  rubbing  yewr  chin  like  a 
dumned  chipimunk,  Simon,  while  Mister  Patrick  Henry  is 
waiting  for  them  queue  ribbons  from  Corwin's.  Eh?  You 
fetched  'em?  Well,  why  in  the  name  o'  Virginy  can't  you 
say  so  ?  Clean  them  buckles  for  the  gentleman  in  20,  yew 
darned  clam!" 

His  penetrating,  half-fretful,  half -humorous  voice  died 
away  towards  the  stables  in  the  rear,  and  I  parted  the  dainty 
curtains  and  peeped  out  into  the  streets  of  Pittsburg.  Our 
inn  stood  on  the  corner  of  the  town  square,  opposite  the  vil 
lage  green.  Across  the  square  rose  some  well-made  barracks, 
painted  white;  I  could  see  red-coated  sentinels  posted  at  the 
gates  and  walking  their  beats  along  the  west  stockade.  A 
few  handsome  mansions  faced  the  square,  two  churches  and 
a  public  house  completed  the  north  side  of  the  quadrangle. 
East  and  west  shops  and  smaller  houses  lined  the  streets ;  the 
green  bush  hung  in  the  sunshine,  the  barber's  basin  swung 
and  glittered  among  a  forest  of  gayly  painted  sign-boards. 

But  the  people  I  Lord,  how  they  trooped  by,  passing,  re- 
passing,  threading  the  alleys,  streaming  across  the  green, 
soldiers  in  scarlet  and  buff,  militia  in  brown  and  green,  sober 
townsmen  dressed  as  we  dress  in  Johnstown,  old  gentlemen 
in  snuffy  smalls  and  big  coats  with  broad  cuffs  and  silver  but 
tons,  the  butcher,  bared  of  arm  and  head,  with  the  wind  flut 
tering  his  apron,  the  baker,  white  and  sallow  as  his  own  muf 
fins,  ostlers,  shop-keepers,  chapmen,  men  in  fustian  shoulder 
ing  pick  or  shovels,  drovers  in  blue  smocks  carrying  looped 
snake-whips.  Now  comes  one  in  musty  wig  and  steel  spec 
tacles,  bulging  umbrella  under  one  arm,  inquisitive  nose 
buried  in  a  Maryland  newspaper — a  schoolmaster! — or  do  I 
not  know  the  breed.  Anon,  I  see  some  tall,  awkward  riflemen, 
loitering  idly  before  signs  or  gawking  up  at  the  county  court 
house,  where  a  gilt  fish  swims  in  the  sky. 

Sometimes  a  horseman,  in  the  uniform  of  Lord  Dunmore's 
guards,  trots  by  gracefully,  with  a  smile  and  low  salute  for 
his  friends  and  a  stare  at  the  fresh-cheeked  maids  who  steal 
demurely  along,  basket  on  arm,  to  rifle  the  market  for  an 
early  squash  or  a  bunch  o'  green  pease. 

Many  citizens  I  notice  are  reading  the  newspapers  as  they 

215 


CARDIGAN 

walk ;  many  men  meet  and  stop  and  converse  eagerly,  looking 
behind  them  at  times  as  though  an  eavesdropper  might  be 
near.  With  bell  and  clapper  the  vender  of  ginger  and  cocoa- 
nut  pushes  his  cart  before  him ;  peddlers,  bending  under  Dela 
ware  baskets  or  leather  trays,  stand  in  the  street,  calling  their 
wares:  "Colours  for  the  races!"  "Tablets!"  "Pencils!" 
"  Chains !"  "  Cock-gaffs—steel  or  brass !"  "  Gentlemen's 
fancy!"  "Dog-bells!"  "Ferret-bits!" 

A  barefoot  child  in  rags  offers  bills  for  the  bull-baiting 
and  for  the  Theatre  Royal,  crying  in  a  thin,  monotonous 
voice :  "  Race-week  bills,  my  lords  and  gentlemen !  Race- 
week  bills  for  the  Theatre  Royal,  my  lady!  Plays  to  be 
played— 'The  Beau's  Stratagem,'  'Beggar's  Opera,'  'The 
Devil  to  Pay,'  '  The  Fair  Penitent,'  '  The  Virgin  Unmasked !' 
and  a  variety  of  farces  and  merry  pantomimes — and  the 
bills  are  only  a  penny,  my  lady!  The  tickets  to  be  had  at 
Jamison's  Coffee-House  at  four  shillings — the  bill  to  be  had 
of  me,  Rosalie,  child  of  Tanner  Bridewell — only  a  penny !" 

The  pitiful  voice  in  the  sunshine  touched  me ;  I  opened  the 
window  and  tossed  a  shilling  to  the  child,  then  hid  behind 
the  curtains  while  she  kissed  her  palm  at  my  window. 

The  winding  of  a  brass  horn  brought  me  out  of  my  con 
cealment  to  peep  again  down  into  the  street,  where  people 
were  nocking  around  a  public  crier,  who  stood  on  a  horse 
block  blowing  his  horn. 

"Attention!  Attention!"  he  cried,  unfolding  a  paper,  and 
presently  commenced  to  read  his  news  to  the  crowd : 

"  By  permission  of  the  Right  Honourable  Earl  of  Dunmore, 
Governor  of  Virginia!  Four  days'  sport  on  Roanoke  Plain. 
The  Colonial  Club  offering  prizes  of  £100  and  £50;  the  Rich 
mond  Club  offering  two  purses  of  £50.  Attention !  Sport  on 
the  Roanoke;  an  even  and  delightsome  plain,  most  sweet  and 
pleasant.  To-day  the  Nobleman's  and  Gentleman's  Purse  of 
£50,  free  for  any  horse  except  Doctor  Connolly's  Scimitar, 
who  won  the  plate  last  season.  Second,  a  silver  cup  worth 
£12.  Tuesday,  County  Subscription  Purse  of  £50.  No  per 
son  will  erect  a  booth  or  sell  liquor  without  subscribing  £2 
to  expenses  of  races. 

"  Gentlemen  fond  of  fox-hunting  will  meet  at  the  Buckeye 
Tavern  by  daybreak  during  the  races. 

216 


CAKDIGAN 

"God  save  the  King!" 

He  folded  his  paper,  picked  up  his  horn,  and  stepped  down 
from  the  horse-block.  After  a  little  while  I  heard  his  horn 
again,  sounding  at  the  north  angle  of  the  square,  and  his 
strident  voice,  announcing  the  races,  came  fitfully  on  the 
wind. 

I  turned  back  into  the  room  and  began  my  toilet.  How 
strange  to  find  this  town,  undisturbed  in  its  rural  pleasures, 
busy  about  its  own  affairs,  while  scarce  a  night's  journey  to 
the  north  the  frontier  was  in  ashes,  and  the  dead  lay  in  the 
charred  embers  of  their  own  door-sills ! 

How  strange  to  look  out  on  the  peace  of  these  sunny  streets, 
with  the  cinders  of  Cresap's  camp  still  clinging  to  my  hunt 
ing-shirt;  with  my  own  blood  caking  the  sore  on  my  arm 
where  a  Cayuga  child  had  thrust  a  lighted  pine-splinter  into 
my  flesh!  Strange! — ay,  astonishing  that  these  people  here 
behind  their  fortress,  their  block-housen,  their  earthworks 
and  stockades,  should  forget  those  who  dwelt  beyond  the 
gates,  wresting  the  dark  soil,  inch  by  inch,  from  the  giant 
pines  of  the  wilderness. 

With  a  knife  which  Cresap  had  given  me,  I  sat  down  to 
scrape  the  mud  and  filth  from  my  hunting-shirt  and  to  pick 
out  the  burrs  and  docks  which  clotted  the  fringe  on  my  leg 
gings. 

Sombre  thoughts  filled  me ;  I  had  a  hard  role  to  play  before 
Lord  Dunmore;  I  had  a  harder  role  to  act  before  Silver 
Heels,  if  she  were  still  here  in  Pittsburg. 

It  gave  me  no  pleasure  to  find  myself  so  near  her.  The 
attitude  she  had  assumed  towards  me  that  last  night  in 
Johnstown  had  hurt  enough  to  leave  a  scar.  But  when  scars 
appear,  wounds  are  healed;  and  so  was  mine.  It  was  true,  I 
had  never  loved  her  as  men  love  sweethearts.  Her  sudden 
and  amazing  appearance  as  a  woman  had  aroused  my  curios 
ity;  her  popularity  and  beauty  my  jealousy.  It  was  hurt 
pride  that  tempered  me  when  the  playfellow  I  had  tolerated 
and  protected  and  tormented  at  my  pleasure,  tormented,  tol 
erated,  and  finally  ignored  me. 

I  did  not  love  her  when  I  aroused  her  contempt  with  my 
courtship  of  Mrs.  Hamilton.  I  did  not  love  her  when  I  fol 
lowed  her  to  the  pantry  to  bully  her  into  according  me  her 

217 


CAKDIGAN 

respect  once  more.  It  was  vanity:  vanity  when  I  sulked 
because  young  Bevan  took  her  from  me;  vanity  when  I  as 
sailed  the  pretty  ears  of  Mrs.  Hamilton  with  callow  cyni 
cisms  and  foolish  wit.  I  scorned  myself  for  having  deceived 
my  own  heart  with  the  fancy  that  I  had  ever  loved  my  cousin 
Silver  Heels. 

Now  that  the  demon  Butler  had  been  exorcised  by  Sir  Will 
iam,  and  now  that  Sir  William  wished  for  my  union  with 
Silver  Heels,  and  had  promised  me  the  means  to  maintain 
her  as  her  rank  required,  I  understood  plainly  that  I  did  not 
love  her  in  that  way.  She  was  only  my  playfeno.7;  she  had 
never  been  anything  else.  I  meant  to  see  her  and  tell  her 
so ;  I  meant  to  ask  her  forgiveness  for  offending  her ;  I  meant 
to  seek  her  friendly  confidence  once  more,  to  warn  her  that 
she  should  not  tarry  here  in  these  troublous  times,  but  return 
at  once  to  Johnson  Hall,  where  Sir  William  could  protect 
her,  not  only  from  the  savages,  but  also  from  that  creature 
whose  every  breath  of  life  was  an  offence  to  his  Creator. 

Doubtless,  Silver  Heels  would  go  with  me.  Dunmore  would 
be  obliged  to  provide  our  escort;  indeed,  his  Lordship  would 
be  glad  enough  to  see  me  leave  his  town  of  Pittsburg  ere  I 
had  finished  with  my  business  here. 

I  stood  smoothing  the  thrums  on  sleeve  and  legging,  some 
what  ashamed  to  seek  audience  with  anybody  in  such  attire. 
I  had  money  in  my  belt,  enough  to  purchase  clothing  suitable 
to  my  station,  but  it  was  time  that  I  lacked,  not  means  or 
inclination. 

I  had  laid  my  hand  on  the  knob,  intent  on  seeking  break 
fast  below,  and  was  about  to  open  the  door,  when  somebody 
knocked.  It  was  Saul  Shemuel,  smiling  and  folding  his 
hands  over  his  belly — a  greasy  spectacle  in  sooth  for  a  hungry 
stomach — and  I  scowled  and  bade  him  state  his  business 
quickly  in  the  devil's  name. 

"  Goot-day  and  greeding,  sir,"  said  the  peddler,  bowing  and 
rubbing  himself  against  the  door  like  a  cat.  "  Gott  save  our 
country,  Mr.  Cardigan.  You  are  expected  to  join  the  gen- 
dlemens  in  13,  sir.  Mr.  Mount  begs  you  will  hold  no  gon- 
versation  mit  strangers  hereabouts,  nor  entertain  no  one  until 
he  sees  you,  sir." 

"  Who  are  you,  anyway,  Shemuel  ?"  I  asked,  curiously. 

213 


CARDIGAN 

"  A  peddler,  Mr.  Cardigan — only  a  poor  peddler,"  he  pro 
tested,  spreading  out  his  grimy  fingers  and  peeping  up  cun 
ningly.  "  Pray,  do  not  look  as  if  you  knew  me,  sir,  should 
you  see  me  abroad  in  the  streeds,  sir.  But  if  you  wish  to 
speag  to  me,  please  to  buy  a  buckle ;  one  buckle  if  I  shall  seek 
you  here,  two  buckles  if  I  am  to  follow  you  in  the  streed,  sir, 
three  buckles  if  you  would  seek  me  in  my  lodgings,  Mr.  Car 
digan.  I  live  at  the  '  Bear  and  Cubs  Tavern,'  sir,  on  the 
King's  Boad." 

"  Very  well,"  I  said,  somewhat  amused  at  the  idea  of  my 
pining  for  Shemuel's  company  under  any  circumstances. 
"  Where  is  room  13,  Shemuel  ?  Eh  ?  Oh,  you  appear  to  know 
this  inn.  Here's  sixpence  for  you,  Shemmy.  That's  right, 
cut  away  now !" 

"  If  I  might  speak  von  vort,  sir,"  he  began,  hoisting  his 
basket  on  his  back  and  looking  slyly  up  at  me  as  I  passed 
him. 

"  Well  ?"  I  said,  impatiently. 

"  I  haf  often  seen  you,  sir,  at  Johnson  Hall." 

"Well?" 

"  And  I  haf  also  sold  gilt  chains  to  Miss  Warren." 

"  Well !"  I  demanded,  sharply. 

"  Miss  Warren  iss  here  in  Pittsburg,  sir,"  he  ventured. 

"  I  supposed  so,"  I  said,  coldly ;  "  but  that  does  not  interest 
me." 

"Maybe,"  he  said,  spitefully,  "you  don'd  know  some- 
dings?" 

"What  things?" 

"  Miss  Warren  weds  mit  Lord  Dunmore  in  July." 

He  was  gone  like  a  slippery  lizard  before  I  could  seize 
him.  He  vanished  around  the  corridor  ere  my  thoughts  as 
sembled  from  the  shock  that  had  routed  them.  Now  they 
began  to  rally  pell-mell,  and  my  cheeks  burnt  with  scorn  and 
anger,  though  I  could  not  truly  credit  the  preposterous  news. 
That  unformed  child  thrown  into  the  arms  of  a  thing  like 
Dunmore!  What  possessed  all  these  rakes  and  roues  to  go 
mad — stark,  staring,  March-mad — over  my  playfellow  ?  What 
did  an  Earl  want  of  her — even  this  bloodless  Dunmore  with 
his  simper  and  his  snuff  and  his  laces  and  his  bird's  claws 
for  fingers?  What  the  devil  had  enchanted  him  to  seek  her 

219 


CARDIGAN 

for  his  wife;  to  make  her  Countess  of  Dunmore  and  the 
first  lady  in  Virginia  ? 

And  Silver  Heels,  had  she  sold  her  beauty  for  the  crest  on 
this  man's  coach  ?  Had  she  bargained  her  innocence  for  the 
rank  that  this  toothless  conspirator  and  assassin  could  give 
her  ?  How  in  God's  name  could  she  endure  him  ?  How  could 
she  listen  without  scorn,  look  at  him  without  loathing?  An 
old  man,  at  least  a  man  who  might  be  a  rotten  forty  or  a 
patched  and  mended  sixty,  with  his  painted  face  and  his  lip- 
less  line  of  a  mouth — horror! — if  she  had  seen  him  grinning 
and  gumming  his  wine-glass  as  I  had  seen  him — or  sprawling 
on  the  carpet,  too  drunk  to  clean  his  own  chin! 

Agitated  and  furious  I  paced  the  hallway,  resolving  to 
seek  out  my  lady  Silver  Heels  without  loss  of  time  or  cere 
mony,  and  conduct  her  back  to  the  nursery  where  the  little 
fool  belonged. 

Countess,  indeed !  I'd  bring  her  to  her  senses !  And  wait ! 
— only  wait  until  Sir  William  should  learn  of  this ! 

Somewhat  comforted  at  the  thought  of  the  Baronet's  anger 
and  dismay,  I  pocketed  my  excitement  and  began  to  search 
for  the  door  of  room  13,  where,  according  to  Shemuel,  I  was 
expected.  I  had  forgotten  the  peddler's  directions;  besides 
the  house  was  unexplored  ground  for  me,  and  1  wandered 
about  several  corridors  until  I  noticed  a  pleasant-faced  gen 
tleman  watching  me  from  the  stairs. 

He  doubtless  noticed  my  perplexity,  for  he  bowed  very 
courteously  as  I  passed  him  and  made  some  polite  observa 
tion  which  required  a  civil  answer;  and  before  I  was  fully 
aware  of  it,  he  had  invited  me  to  a  morning  cup  with  him  in 
the  tap-room. 

This  was  a  trifle  too  friendly  on  short  acquaintance ;  Shem- 
uel's  warning  to  hold  my  tongue  and  avoid  strangers  in 
stantly  occurred  to  me.  On  my  guard,  I  prayed  him  to  par 
don  my  declining,  with  many  compliments  and  excuses, 
which  I  heaped  upon  him  to  avoid  the  seeming  discourtesy 
of  refusing  him  my  name. 

He  was  truly  a  most  pleasant  gentleman,  a  stranger  in 
Pittsburg,  so  he  said,  and  bearing  very  gracefully  the  title 
of  captain  and  the  name  of  Murcly.  He  appeared  most 
anxious  to  present  me  to  his  friend,  Doctor  Connolly,  in  the 

220 


CARDIGAN 

tap-room;  but  I  begged  permission  to  defer  the  honour  and 
left  him,  somewhat  nonplussed,  on  the  stairway. 

In  a  few  moments  I  found  room  13,  and  knocked.  And,  as 
I  was  ushered  in,  I  glanced  back  at  the  stairway,  and  was 
annoyed  to  see  my  friendly  Captain  Murdy  peering  at  me 
through  the  balustrade. 

It  was  Corporal  Paul  Cloud  who  admitted  me,  greeting  me 
respectfully,  and  immediately  closing  and  locking  the  door. 
The  room  was  large;  a  table  stood  in  the  centre,  around 
which  were  gathered  Jack  Mount,  Cade  Renard,  Jimmy 
Rolfe,  the  landlord  of  the  "  Virginia  Arms  " ;  my  former  host, 
Timothy  Boyd;  and  another  man  whom  I  had  never  before 
seen.  Cresap  was  not  there,  but,  in  a  corner,  wrapped  to  the 
eyes  in  his  dark  blanket,  sat  the  bereaved  Cayuga  chief, 
Logan,  staring  at  the  floor. 

The  company  were  at  breakfast,  and  when  I  approached  to 
greet  them,  Mount  jumped  to  his  feet  and  gave  me  a  warm 
handclasp,  leading  me  to  a  chair  beside  the  only  man  whom 
I  did  not  know. 

I  saluted  the  stranger,  and  he  bowed  silently  in  return. 
He  appeared  to  be  a  man  of  forty,  elegantly  yet  soberly 
dressed,  wearing  his  own  dark  hair,  unpowdered,  in  a  queue — 
a  gentleman  in  bearing,  in  voice,  in  every  movement — a  thor- 
ougnbred  to  the  tips  of  his  smooth,  well-ordered  fingers.  A 
pair  of  gold-rimmed  spectacles  which  he  wore  had  beert 
pushed  up  over  his  forehead;  now  he  lowered  them  to  the 
bridge  of  his  nose  again,  and  looked  at  me  gravely  and  search- 
ingly,  yet  entirely  without  offence.  The  scrutiny  of  certain 
men  sometimes  conveys  a  delicate  compliment. 

Mount,  in  a  very  subdued  voice,  asked  permission  to  pre 
sent  me,  and  the  gentleman  bowed,  saying  he  knew  my  name 
from  hearing  of  my  father. 

As  for  his  name,  I  think  anybody  in  the  colonies — ay,  in 
London,  too — would  know  it.  For  the  gentleman  beside  whom 
I  had  been  placed  was  the  famous  Virginian,  Patrick  Henry, 
that  fiery  orator  who  had  bade  our  King  mark  well  the  lives 
of  Caisar  and  Charles  the  First  to  profit  by  their  sad  ex 
amples  :  and  when  the  cries  of  "  Treason !"  dinned  in  his 
ears,  had  faced  a  howling  Tory  Legislature  with  the  con 
temptuous  words :  "  If  this  be  treason — make  the  most  of  it !" 

221 


CAKDIGAN 

Sideways  I  admired  his  delicate  aquiline  nose,  his  firm 
chin,  the  refinement  of  every  muscle,  every  line. 

He  drank  sparingly;  once  he  raised  his  glass  to  me  and  I 
had  the  honour  of  drinking  a  draught  of  cinnamon  cold- 
mulled  with  him. 

There  was  little  conversation  at  table.  Mr.  Henry  asked 
Boyd  about  the  burning  of  Cresap's  village,  and  the  brave 
old  man  told  the  story  in  a  few,  short  phrases.  Once  he 
spoke  to  Cloud  about  the  militia.  Presently,  however,  he 
left  the  table  and  sat  down  by  Logan ;  and  for  a  long  time  we 
watched  them  together,  this  sensitive,  high-bred  orator,  and 
the  sombre  savage,  burying  his  grief  in  the  dark  ruins  of  a 
broken  heart.  Their  blended  voices  sounded  to  us  like  the 
murmur  of  the  deep  thrilling  chords  of  a  harp,  touched 
lightly. 

Mount  came  over  beside  me,  and,  resting  his  massive  head 
on  his  hands,  spoke  low,  "  Cresap  was  arrested  last  night  by 
Doctor  Connolly,  Dunmore's  deputy,  and  is  to  be  relieved  of 
his  command." 

"  Is  Doctor  Connolly  Dunmore's  agent  ?"  I  asked,  quietly. 
"  Then  he's  here  in  the  house  now." 

"  I  know  it,"  said  Mount.  "  Pie  and  his  fawning  agent, 
Murdy,  are  watching  the  inn  to  learn  who  is  here.  By-the- 
way,  my  name  is  anything  you  please,  if  they  ask  you.  It 
won't  do  for  the  Weasel  and  me  to  flaunt  our  quality  in  Pitts- 
burg  town.  There  was  once  a  fat  Tory  judge  walking  yonder 
on  the  highway,  and — well,  you  know,  moonlight  and  mischief 
are  often  abroad  together.  Curious,  too,  that  this  same  fat 
judge  should  have  come  to  grief;  for  he  once  issued  some 
valentines  to  me  and  the  Weasel." 

I  looked  up  sharply ;  Mount  blinked  mildly  as  a  kitten  who 
is  filled  with  milk. 

"  Why  did  they  arrest  Cresap  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Why  ?  Oh,  Lord,  the  town  is  full  o'  people  blaming  Dun- 
more  for  this  new  war.  There  was  like  to  be  a  riot  yesterday 
when  one  of  Cresap's  runners  came  in  with  news  of  the  ris 
ing.  So  Dunmore,  frightened,  called  in  Connolly  and  Murdy 
and  they  went  about  town  swearing  that  Dunmore  was  inno 
cent  and  that  the  wicked  Cresap  did  it  all.  And  now  Con 
nolly  has  had  Cresap  arrested,  and  he  swears  that  Dunmore 

222 


CARDIGAN 

will  make  an  example  of  Cresap  for  oppressing  the  poor  Ind 
ians.    There's  your  Tory  Governor  for  you!" 

Horrified  at  such  hypocrisy,  I  could  only  gasp  while  Mount 
shrugged  his  broad  shoulders  and  went  on : 

"  But  this  rattlesnake,  Dunmore,  has  bitten  off  more  than 
he  can  poison.  Logan's  here  to  demand  justice  on  Great- 
house.  And  now  you  are  here  to  protest  in  Sir  William's 
name.  Oh,  it's  a  fine  pickle  Dunmore  will  find  himself  swim 
ming  in." 

"  When  is  Logan  to  have  an  audience  with  Dunmore  ?"  I 
asked. 

"  To-night,  in  the  fortress.  And,  Mr.  Cardigan,  I  took  the 
liberty  of  announcing  to  the  Governor's  secretary,  Gibson, 
that  an  envoy  from  Sir  William  Johnson  had  arrived  with 
a  message  for  Lord  Dunmore.  So  you  also  are  to  deliver 
your  message  to  the  Governor  of  Virginia  in  the  hall  to 
night." 

"  But,"  said  I,  puzzled,  "  does  Dunmore  expect  a  messenger 
from  Sir  William?" 

"  Haven't  you  heard  from  Shemuel  ?"  asked  Mount.  "  I 
told  him  to  tell  you  that  Dunmore  wants  to  marry  the  beauti 
ful  Miss  Warren,  who's  cutting  such  a  swath  here.  He  sent 
his  offer  by  runner  to  Sir  William,  and,  being  a  Tory,  an 
Earl,  and  Governor  of  Virginia,  he  naturally  expects  Sir 
William  will  throw  the  poor  girl  at  his  head !" 

I  took  Mount's  arm  in  my  hand  and  tightened  my  grip 
till  he  groaned. 

"  Mark  you,  Mount,"  I  said,  choking  back  my  passion, 
"  this  night  my  Lord  Dunmore  will  learn  some  things  of 
which  he  is  ignorant.  One  of  them  is  that  my  kinswoman, 
Miss  Warren,  is  betrothed  to  me !" 

The  big  fellow's  eyes  had  grown  wider  and  bluer  as  I  spoke. 
When  I  finished  he  gaped  at  me  like  a  dying  fish.  Suddenly 
he  seized  my  hand  and  wrung  it  till  the  whole  table  shook, 
and  Mr.  Henry  looked  at  us  in  displeasure. 

"  Tell  the  Weasel,"  said  Mount,  gently.  "  Tell  him,  lad.  It 
will  please  him.  He's  full  o'  sentiment;  he'll  never  breathe 
a  word,  Mr.  Cardigan;  the  Weasel's  a  gentleman.  He  dotes 
on  love  and  lovers." 

Lovers!    Jove!    The  words  fell  harshly  on  my  ear. 

223 


CARDIGAN 

I  did  not  love  Silver  Heels;  I  did  not  want  to  wed  her. 
But  something  had  to  be  done,  and  that  quickly,  if  I  was  to 
take  the  silly,  deluded  girl  back  to  Johnstown  with  me. 

"  Won't  you  tell  the  Weasel  ?"  said  Mount,  anxiously. 

"  You  tell  him,"  I  said.  "  You  must  stick  by  me  now,  Jack 
Mount,  for  the  Lord  knows  what  trouble  lies  before  me  ere  I 
shake  the  Pittsburg  dust  off  my  moccasins !" 

After  a  moment  Mount  said,  "  I  suppose  you  don't  know 
where  Butler  is?" 

"You  mean  to  say  that  Butler  is  back  in  Pittsburg?"  I 
asked,  faintly. 

"  He's  in  attendance  on  Dunmore,  lad.  Shemmy  told  me 
last  night." 

"  Very  well,"  said  I,  smacking  my  suddenly  parched  lips. 
"  I  will  kill  him  before  I  leave  Pittsburg." 

Mr.  Henry  rose  from  his  seat  beside  Logan  and  came  over 
to  where  I  was  standing  by  the  window. 

"  Mr.  Cardigan,"  he  said,  "  I  know  from  Mount  something 
concerning  your  mission  here.  I  know  you  to  be  a  patriot, 
and  I  believe  that  your  honourable  guardian,  Sir  William 
Johnson,  will  aid  us  with  all  his  heart  in  whatever  touches 
the  good  of  our  country.  Am  I  not  right  ?" 

"  Sir  William's  deeds  are  never  secret,  sir,"  I  replied,  cau 
tiously.  "  All  men  may  read  his  heart  by  that  rule." 

"  Sir  William  has  chosen  in  you  a  discreet  deputy,  to  whom 
I  beg  to  pay  my  sincerest  compliments,"  said  Mr.  Henry, 
smiling. 

"  I  can  say  this,  sir,"  I  replied,  with  a  bow ;  "  that  I  have 
heard  him  many  times  commend  your  speeches  and  the  public 
course  which  you  pursue." 

"  Sir  William  is  too  good,"  he  replied,  bowing. 

"  Ay,  sir,"  I  said,  eagerly ;  "  he  is  good !  I  do  believe  him 
to  be  the  greatest  and  best  of  men,  Mr.  Henry.  I  am  here  as 
his  deputy,  though  without  orders,  now  that  my  mission  to 
Colonel  Cresap  has  failed.  But,  sir,  I  shall  use  my  discre 
tion,  knowing  Sir  William's  mind,  and  this  night  I  shall 
present  to  my  Lord  Dunmore  a  reckoning  which  shall  not  be 
easily  cancelled!" 

"In  the  face  of  all  his  people?"  asked  Mr.  Henry,  curi 
ously. 

224 


CARDIGAN 

"In  the  face  of  the  whole  world,  sir,"  I  said,  setting  my 
teeth  with  a  snap. 

He  held  out  his  finely  formed  hand ;  I  took  it  respectfully. 

When  he  had  gone  away  I  drew  Mount  and  Renard  aside 
and  asked  them  where  Miss  Warren  was  staying.  They  did 
not  know. 

"  We'll  make  a  tour  of  the  town  and  find  Shemuel ;  he 
knows,"  suggested  Mount. 

I  assented,  smiling  bitterly  to  find  myself  so  soon  seeking 
Shemuel's  company;  and  we  three,  clad  in  our  soiled  buck 
skins,  descended  the  stairway  and  sallied  forth  into  the  sun 
lit  streets  of  Pittsburg,  arm  in  arm. 

Riflemen,  rangers,  forest-runners,  and  the  flotsam  and  jet 
sam  from  the  wilderness  were  no  rare  spectacles  in  Pitts- 
burg,  so  at  first  we  attracted  little  attention.  We  would 
have  attracted  none  at  all  had  not  Mount  swaggered  so,  arms 
akimbo,  fur  cap  over  his  left  eye.  He  stopped  at  every  tap 
room,  a  sad  habit  of  his  in  towns;  and  the  oftener  he  stopped 
the  more  offensive  became  his  swagger.  The  Weasel,  too, 
strutted  along,  cap  defiantly  cocked,  reaching  up  to  tuck  his 
arm  under  the  elbow  of  his  giant  comrade,  which  at  mo 
ments  forced  the  little  Weasel  to  march  on  tiptoe. 

It  was  strange  and  ludicrous,  the  affection  between  these 
waifs  of  the  wilderness;  what  Mount  did  the  Weasel  imitated 
most  scrupulously,  drinking  whatever  his  companion  drank, 
swaggering  when  he  swaggered,  singing  whatever  catch 
Mount  sang.  And  the  oftener  they  drank  the  more  musical 
they  became  with  their  eternal : 

"  Diddle  diddle  dumpling, 
My  son  John! — " 

until  I  remonstrated  so  vigorously  that  they  quieted  their 
voices  if  not  their  deportment. 

It  was  on  Pitt  Street  that  we  found  Shemuel,  trudging 
towards  the  King's  Road.  A  number  of  people  gathered 
about  him  and  followed  him.  Some  bought  ribbons  or  tab 
lets  for  the  races.  The  peddler  saw  us  immediately,  but  made 
no  sign  as  we  approached  until  I  asked  the  price  of  gilt 
buckles,  and  purchased  three. 

Then  the  little  Jew  fumbled  in  his  pockets  and  whined 
P  225 


CARDIGAN 

and  protested  he  could  not  make  change,  and  I  was  uncer 
tain  what  to  say  until  he  brightened  up  and  begged  us  to 
follow  to  the  "  Bear  and  Cubs,"  just  opposite,  where  change 
might  be  had  in  the  tap-room. 

The  "  Bear  and  Cubs  "  was  a  grizzly  tavern,  a  squalid,  un- 
painted  house,  swinging  a  grotesque  sign  which  was  meant 
to  represent  a  she-bear  suckling  her  young.  The  windows 
were  dim  with  filth;  the  place  reeked  with  the  stale  stench 
of  malt  and  spirit  dregs. 

Into  this  grewsome  hostelry  I  followed,  perforce,  to  the 
tap-room,  where  Mount  and  Renard  bawled  for  ale  while  I 
made  known  my  business  to  Shemuel,  who  curiously  enough 
appeared  to  suspect  in  advance  what  I  wanted. 

"  If  you  hatt  dold  me  this  morning — ach ! — bud  I  pelieved 
you  care  noddings,  Mister  Cardigan.  She  wass  waiting  to 
see  you,  sir,  at  Lady  Shelton's  in  the  Boundary — " 

"  Did  you  tell  her  I  was  here  ?"  I  asked,  angrily. 

"  Ach — yess !    I  wass  so  sure  you  would  see  her — " 

Exasperated,  I  shook  my  fist  at  the  peddler. 

"  You  miserable,  tattling  fool !"  I  said,  fiercely.  "  Will  you 
mind  your  own  business  hereafter?  Who  the  devil  are  you, 
to  pry  into  my  affairs  and  spy  upon  your  betters  ?" 

"  It  wass  to  hellup  you,  sir,"  he  protested,  spreading  his 
fingers  and  waving  his  hands  excitedly.  "  I  dold  you  she  wass 
to  marry  Lord  Dunmore;  if  you  hatt  asked  me  I  could  haff 
dold  you  somedings  more — " 

"What?" 

"  The  bans  will  be  published  to-morrow  from  efery  church 
in  Pittsburg,  Richmond,  and  Williamsburg !" 

I  glared  at  him,  catching  my  breath  and  swallowing. 

"  Sir,"  he  whined,  "  I  ask  your  pardon,  but  I  naff  so  often 
seen  you  in  Johnstown,  and  Miss  Warren,  too,  and — and — I 
would  not  haff  harm  come  to  her,  or  you,  sir;  and  I  pelieved 
you — you  lofed  her — " 

I  looked  at  him  savagely. 

"  Ach ! — I  will  mix  me  no  more  mit  kindness  to  nobody !" 
he  muttered.  "  Shemmy,  you  mint  your  peezeness  and  sell 
dem  goots  in  dot  pasket-box !" 

"  Shemuel,"  I  said,  "  what  did  she  say  when  you  told  her 
I  was  in  Port  Pitt  ?" 

296 


CARDIGAN 

"  Miss  Warren  went  white  like  you  did,  sir." 

"  And  you  said  you  would  tell  me  where  she  was  to  be 
found?" 

"Ach!— yess." 

"What  did  she  say?" 

"  Miss  Warren  wass  crying,  sir — " 

"What?"  I  asked,  astonished. 

"  Yess,  sir ;  Miss  Warren  she  only  sat  down  under  the 
drees,  and  she  cry  mit  herselluf ." 

"  And  you  came  to  get  me  ?  And  my  manner  made  you  be 
lieve  I  did  not  care  to  see  Miss  Warren  ?" 

"  Miss  Warren  she  knew  I  hatt  come  to  fetch  you.  I  dold 
her  so.  When  I  passed  py  dot  Boundary  again,  she  wass  wait 
ing  under  the  drees — " 

"  How  long  since  ?" 

"  It  is  an  hour,  sir." 

I  fumbled  in  my  belt  and  pulled  out  a  gold  piece. 

"  Thank  you,  Shemmy,"  I  muttered,  dropping  it  into  his 
greasy  cap ;  "  tell  Mount  and  Renard  where  I  have  gone." 

"  Ach — ach,  Mister  Cardigan,"  cried  Shemuel,  plucking  me 
timidly  by  the  sleeve,  "  von  vort,  if  you  please,  sir.  Remem 
ber,  sir,  I  beg  of  you,  that  Miss  Warren  must  not  stay  here. 
Arid  if  she  will  stay,  and  if  she  will  not  listen  to  you,  sir,  I 
beg  you  to  gome  to  me  at  vonce." 

"Why?"  I  asked,  searching  his  agitated  face. 

"  Pecause  I  haff  a  knowledge  that  will  hellup  you,"  he 
muttered. 

"  Very  well,"  I  said,  calmly.  "  I  will  come  to  you,  Shemmy, 
if  I  need  you.  Where  is  Lady  Shelton's  house  ?" 

He  led  me  to  a  back  window  and  pointed  out  the  Boundary, 
which  was  a  tree-shaded  road  skirting  the  inner  fortifications. 
Then  he  opened  the  rear  door,  pointed  out  the  way  through  a 
filthy  alley,  across  the  market  square,  and  then  north  until  I 
came  to  a  large,  white-pillared  house  on  a  terrace,  surrounded 
by  an  orchard. 

As  I  walked  swiftly  towards  the  Boundary  my  irritation  in 
creased  with  every  stride;  it  appeared  to  me  that  the  world 
was  most  impudently  concerning  itself  with  my  private  af 
fairs.  First,  Mount  had  coolly  arranged  for  my  reception 
by  Dunmore  without  a  word  on  the  subject  to  me;  and  now 

227 


CARDIGAN 

the  peddler,  Shemuel,  had  without  my  knowledge  or  consent 
made  a  rendezvous  for  me  with  Silver  Heels  before  I  knew 
for  certain  that  she  still  remained  in  Pittsburg.  The  free 
direction  of  my  own  affairs  appeared  to  be  slipping  away  from 
me;  apparently  people  believed  me  to  be  incapable  of  either 
thinking  or  acting  for  myself.  I  meant  to  put  an  end  to  that. 

As  for  Silver  Heels,  no  wonder  the  announcement  to  her  of 
my  presence  here  had  frightened  her  into  tears.  She  knew 
well  enough,  the  little  hussy,  that  Sir  William  would  not 
endure  her  to  wed  such  a  man  as  Dunmore ;  she  knew  it  only 
too  well,  and,  by  the  publishing  of  the  bans,  it  was  clear 
enough  to  me  that  she  meant  to  wed  Dunmore  in  spite  of 
Sir  William  and  before  he  could  interfere  or  forbid  the  bans. 

As  I  hastened  on,  biting  my  lip  till  it  bled,  I  remembered 
her  vow  to  wed  rank  and  wealth  and  to  be  "  my  lady,"  come 
what  might.  And  now  the  mad  child  believed  she  was  in  a 
fair  way  to  fulfil  her  vow!  I  would  teach  her  to  try  such 
tricks ! 

I  found  no  great  difficulty  in  discovering  the  house.  Stone 
steps  set  in  the  hill-side  led  up  to  an  orchard,  through  which, 
bordered  by  a  garden,  walks  of  gravel  stretched  to  the  veranda 
of  the  white-pillared  house  with  its  dormers  and  dignified 
portico. 

There  was  a  lady  in  the  orchard,  with  her  back  turned  tow 
ards  me,  leaning  on  a  stone-wall  and  apparently  contemplat 
ing  the  town  below.  My  moccasins  made  no  noise  until  I 
stepped  on  the  gravel;  but,  at  the  craunch  of  the  pebbles,  the 
lady  looked  around  and  then  came  hastily  towards  me  across 
the  grass. 

"  Are  you  a  runner  from  Johnstown  ?"  she  asked,  sharply. 

I  stood  still.  The  lady  was  Silver  Heels.  She  did  not 
know  me. 

She  did  not  know  me,  nor  I  her,  at  first.  It  was  only  when 
she  spoke.  And  this  change  had  come  to  us  both  within  four 
weeks'  time! 

That  she  did  not  recognize  me  was  less  to  be  wondered  at. 
The  dark  mask  of  the  sun,  which  I  now  wore,  had  changed  me 
to  an  Indian;  anxiety,  fatigue,  and  my  awful  peril  in  the 
Cayuga  camp  had  made  haggard  a  youthful  face,  perhaps 
scored  and  hollowed  it.  In  these  weeks  I  had  grown  tall;  I 

228 


CAKDIGAN 

knew  it,  for  my  clothes  no  longer  fitted  in  leg  or  sleeve.    And 
I  was  thin  as  a  kestrel,  too ;  my  added  belt  holes  told  me  that. 

But  that  I  had  not  recognized  her  till  she  spoke  distressed 
me.  She,  too,  had  grown  tall;  her  face  and  body  were  shock 
ingly  frail ;  she  had  painted  her  cheeks  and  powdered  her  hair, 
and  by  her  laces  and  frills  and  her  petticoat  of  dentelle,  she 
might  have  been  a  French  noblewoman  from  Quebec.  It  were 
idle  to  deny  her  beauty,  but  it  was  the  beauty  of  death  itself. 

"  Silver  Heels,"  I  said. 

Her  hand  flew  to  her  bosom,  then  crept  up  on  her  throat, 
which  I  saw  throbbing  and  whitening  at  every  breath.  Good 
cause  for  fear  had  she,  the  graceless  witch ! 

After  a  moment  she  turned  and  walked  into  the  orchard. 
'Deed  I  scared  her,  too,  for  her  dragging  feet  told  of  the 
shock  I  had  given  her,  and  her  silk  kirtle  trembled  to  her 
knees.  She  leaned  on  the  wall,  looking  out  over  the  town  as 
I  had  first  seen  her,  and  I  followed  her  and  rested  against  the 
wall  beside  her. 

"  Silver  Heels,"  I  asked,  "  are  you  afraid  to  see  me  ?" 

"  No,"  she  said,  but  the  tears  in  her  throat  stopped  her. 
Lord!  how  I  had  frightened  her  withal! 

"  Do  you  know  why  I  am  here  ?"  I  demanded,  impressively, 
folding  my  arms  in  solemn  satisfaction  at  the  situation. 

To  my  amazement  she  tossed  her  chin  with  a  hateful 
laugh,  and  shrugged  her  shoulders  without  looking  at  me. 

"Do  you  realize  why  I  am  here?"  I  repeated,  in  dis 
pleasure. 

She  half  turned  towards  me  with  maddening  indifference 
in  voice  and  movement. 

"  Why  you  are  here  ?    Yes,  I  know  why." 

"Why,  then?"  I  snapped. 

"  Because  you  believed  that  Marie  Hamilton  was  here," 
she  said,  and  laughed  that  odd,  unpleasant  laugh  again. 
"  But  you  corne  too  late,  Micky,"  she  added,  spitefully ; 
"  your  bonnie  Marie  Hamilton  is  a  widow,  now,  and  already 
back  in  Albany  to  mourn  poor  Captain  Hamilton." 

My  ears  had  been  growing  hot. 

"  Do  you  believe — "  I  began. 

But  she  turned  her  back,  saying,  "  Oh,  Micky,  don't  lie." 

"  Lie !"  I  cried,  exasperated. 

229 


CARDIGAN 

"  Fib,  then.  But  you  should  have  arrived  in  time,  rny  poor 
friend.  Last  week  came  the  news  that  Captain  Hamilton 
had  been  shot  on  the  Kentucky.  Boone  and  Harrod  sent  a 
runner  with  the  names  of  the  dead.  If  you  had  only  been 
here! — oh  dear;  poor  boy!  Pray,  follow  Mrs.  Hamilton  to 
Albany.  She  talked  of  nobody  but  you;  she  treated  Mr. 
Bevan  to  one  of  her  best  silk  mittens — " 

"  What  nonsense  is  this  ?"  I  cried,  alarmed.  "  Does  Mrs. 
Hamilton  believe  I  am  in  love  with  her  ?" 

"  Believe  it  ?  What  could  anybody  believe  after  you  had 
so  coolly  compromised  her — " 

"What?"  I  stammered. 

"You  kissed  her,  didn't  you?" 

"Who— I?" 

"  Perhaps  I  was  mistaken ;  perhaps  it  was  somebody  else." 

I  fairly  glared  at  my  tormentor. 

"  Let  me  see,"  said  Silver  Heels,  counting  on  her  fingers. 
"  There  were  three  of  us  there — Marie  Hamilton,  I,  and 
Black  Betty.  Now  I'm  sure  it  was  not  me  you  kissed,  and 
if  it  was  not  Marie  Hamilton — why — it  was  Betty!" 

"  Silver  Heels,"  said  I,  angrily,  "  do  you  suppose  I  am  in 
love  with  Mrs.  Hamilton  ?" 

"  Why  did  you  court  her  ?"  demanded  Silver  Heels,  looking 
at  me  with  bright  eyes. 

"  Why  ?  Oh,  I — I  fancied  I  was  in  love  with  you — and — 
and  so  I  meant  to  make  you  jealous,  Silver  Heels.  Upon  my 
honour,  that  was  all!  I  never  dreamed  she  might  think  me 
serious." 

The  set  smile  on  Silver  Heels's  lips  did  not  relax. 

"  So  you  fancied  you  loved  me  ?"  she  asked. 

"  I — oh — yes.    Silver  Heels,  I  was  such  a  fool — " 

"  Indeed  you  were,"  she  motioned  with  her  lips. 

How  thin  she  had  grown.  Even  the  colour  had  left  her 
lips  now. 

"  There's  one  thing  certain,"  I  said.  "  I  don't  feel  bound 
in  honour  to  wed  Mrs.  Hamilton.  I  like  her ;  she's  pretty  and 
sweet.  I  might  easily  fall  in  love  with  her,  but  I  don't  want 
to  wed  anybody.  I  could  wed  you  if  I  chose,  now,  for 
Sir  William  wishes  it,  and  he  promised  me  means  to  main 
tain  you." 

230 


CARDIGAN 

"  I  thank  Sir  William — and  you !"  said  Silver  Heels,  paler 
than  ever. 

"  Oh,  don't  be  frightened,"  I  muttered.  "  I  can't  have  you, 
and — and  my  country  too.  Silver  Heels,  I'm  a  rebel!" 

She  did  not  answer. 

"  Or,  at  least,  I'm  close  to  it,"  I  went  on.  "  I'm  here  to 
seek  Lord  Dunmore." 

As  I  pronounced  his  name  I  suddenly  remembered  what  I 
had  come  for,  and  stopped  short,  scowling  at  Silver  Heels. 

"  Well,  Micky?"  she  said,  serenely.  "  What  of  Lord  Dun- 
more?" 

I  bent  my  head,  looking  down  at  the  grass,  and  in  a  shamed 
voice  I  told  her  what  I  had  heard.  She  did  not  deny  it. 
When  I  drew  for  her  a  portrait  of  the  Earl  of  Dunmore  in 
all  his  proper  blazonry,  she  only  smiled  and  set  her  lips  tight 
to  her  teeth. 

"  What  of  it  ?"  she  asked.  "  I  am  to  marry  him ;  you  and 
Sir  William  will  not  have  him  to  endure." 

"It's  a  disgraceful  thing,'7  I  said,  hotly.  "If  you  are  in 
your  senses  and  cannot  perceive  the  infamy  of  such  a  mar 
riage,  then  I'll  do  your  thinking  for  you  and  stop  this  shame 
ful  betrothal  now!" 

"  You  will  not,  I  suppose,  presume  to  interfere  in  my  af 
fairs?"  she  demanded,  icily. 

"  Oh  yes,  I  will,"  said  T.  "  You  shall  not  wed  Dunmore. 
Do  you  hear  me,  Silver  Heels?" 

"  I  shall  wed  Dunmore  in  July." 

"  No,  you  won't !"  I  retorted,  stung  to  fury.  "  Sir  William 
has  betrothed  you  to  me.  And,  by  Heaven!  if  it  comes  to 
that,  I  will  wed  you  myself,  you  little  fool !" 

The  old  wild-cat  light  flickered  in  her  eyes,  and  for  a 
moment  I  thought  she  meant  to  strike  me. 

"  You !"  she  stammered,  clinching  her  slender  hands.  "  Wed 
you !  Not  if  I  loved  you  dearer  than  hope  of  heaven,  Michael 
Cardigan!" 

"  I  do  not  ask  you  to  love  me,"  I  retorted,  sullenly.  "  I  do 
not  ask  you  to  wed  me,  save  as  a  last  resort.  But  I  tell  you, 
I  will  not  suffer  the  infamy  of  such  a  match  as  you  mean  to 
make.  Renounce  Dunmore  and  return  with  me  to  Johns 
town,  and  I  promise  you  I  will  not  press  my  suit.  But  if  you 

231 


CARDIGAN 

do  not,  by  Heaven!  I  shall  claim  my  prior  right  under  our 
betrothal,  and  I  shall  take  you  with  me  to  Johnstown.  Will 
you  come  ?" 

"  Lord  Dunmore  will  give  you  your  answer,"  she  said,  look 
ing  wicked  and  shaking  in  every  limb. 

"And  I  will  give  him  his!"  I  cried.  "Pray  you  attend 
to-night's  ceremony  in  the  fortress,  and  you  will  learn  such 
truths  as  you  never  dreamed !" 

I  wiped  my  hot  forehead  with  my  sleeve,  glaring  at  her. 

"  Doubtless,"  said  I,  sneeringly,  "  my  attire  may  shock 
your  would-be  ladyship  and  your  fashionable  friends.  But 
what  I  shall  have  to  say  will  shock  them  more  than  my  dirty 
clothes.  True,  I  have  not  a  bit  of  linen  to  clean  my  brow 
withal,  and  I  use  my  sleeve  as  you  see.  But  it's  the  sleeve  of 
an  honest  man  that  dries  the  sweat  of  a  guiltless  body,  and 
all  the  laces  and  fine  linen  of  my  Lord  Dunmore  cannot  do 
the  like  for  him !" 

"  I  think,"  said  she,  coldly,  "  you  had  best  go." 

"  I  think  so  too,"  I  sneered.  "  I  ask  your  indulgence  if  I 
have  detained  you  from  the  races,  for  which  I  perceive  you 
are  attired." 

"  It  is  true ;  I  remained  here  for  you,  when  I  might  have 
gone  with  the  others." 

Suddenly  she  broke  down  and  laid  her  head  in  her  arms. 

Much  disturbed  I  watched  her.  not  knowing  what  to  say. 
Anger  died  out;  I  leaned  on  the  wall  beside  her,  speaking 
gently  and  striving  to  draw  her  fingers  from  her  face.  In 
vain  I  begged  for  her  confidence  again;  in  vain  I  recalled 
our  old  comradeship  and  our  thousand  foolish  quarrels,  which 
had  never  broken  the  strong  bond  between  us  until  that  last 
night  at  Johnstown. 

As  I  spoke  all  the  old  tenderness  returned,  the  deep  tender 
ness  and  affection  for  her  that  lay  underneath  all  my  tyranny 
and  jealousy  and  vanity  and  bad  temper,  and  which  had  hith 
erto  survived  all  quarrels  and  violence  and  sullen  resentment 
for  real  or  imaginary  offence. 

I  asked  pardon  for  all  wherein  I  had  hurt  her,  I  prayed  for 
her  trustful  comradeship  once  more  as  few  men  pray  for 
love  from  a  cold  mistress. 

Presently  she  answered  a  question;  other  questions  and 

232 


CAKDIGAN 

other  answers  followed;  she  raised  her  tear-marred  eyes  and 
dried  them  with  a  rag  of  tightly  fisted  lace. 

To  soothe  and  gain  her  I  told  her  bits  of  what  I  had  been 
through  since  that  last  quarrel  in  Johnstown.  I  asked  her  if 
she  remembered  that  sunset  by  the  river,  where  she  had 
spoken  charms  to  the  tiny  red  and  black  beetles,  so  that  when 
they  flew  away  the  charm  would  one  day  save  me  from  the 
stake. 

But  when  I  related  the  story  of  my  great  peril,  she  turned 
so  sick  and  pallid  that  I  ceased,  and  took  her  frail  hands 
anxiously. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Silver  Heels  ?"  I  said.  "  Never  have 
I  seen  you  like  this.  Have  you  been  ill  long?  What  is  it, 
little  comrade?" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know— I  don't  know,  truly,"  she  sobbed.  "  It 
has  come  within  the  few  weeks,  Michael.  I  am  so  old,  so 
tired,  so  strangely  ill  of  I  know  not  what." 

"  You  do  know,"  I  said.    "  Tell  me,  Silver  Heels." 

She  raised  her  eyes  to  me,  then  closed  them.  Neck  and 
brow  were  reddening. 

"  You  are  not  in  love !"  I  demanded,  aghast. 

"  Ay,  sick  with  it,"  she  said,  slowly,  with  closed  lids. 

It  was  horrible,  incredible!  I  attempted  to  picture  Dun- 
more  as  an  inspirer  of  love  in  any  woman.  The  mere  idea 
revolted  me.  What  frightful  spell  had  this  shrunken  noble 
man  cast  over  my  little  comrade  that  she  should  confess  her 
love  for  him  ? 

And  all  I  could  say  was :  "  Oh,  Silver  Heels !  Silver  Heels ! 
That  man  !  It  is  madness !" 

"  What  man  ?"  she  asked,  opening  her  eyes. 

"What  man?"  I  repeated.  "Do  you  not  mean  that  you 
love  Dunmore  ?" 

She  laughed  a  laugh  that  frightened  me,  so  mirthless,  so 
bitter,  so  wickedly  bitter  it  rang  in  the  summer  air. 

"  Oh  yes — Dunmore,  if  you  wish — or  any  man — any  man. 
I  care  not;  I  am  sick,  sick,  sick!  They  have  flattered  and 
followed  and  sought  me  and  importuned  me — great  and 
humble,  young  and  old — and  never  a  true  man  among  them 
all — only  things  of  powder  and  silks  and  painted  smiles — and 
all  wicked  save  one." 

233 


CARDIGAN 

"And  he?" 

"  Oh,  he  is  a  true  man — the  only  one  among  them  all — 
a  true  man,  for  he  is  stupid  and  vain  and  tyrannical  and  vio 
lent,  eaten  to  the  bone  with  self-assurance — and  a  fool  to  boot, 
Michael — a  fool  to  boot.  And  as  this  man  is,  among  them 
all,  the  only  real  man  of  bone  and  blood — why,  I  love  him." 

"  Who  is  this  man?"  I  asked,  cautiously. 

"  Not  Dunmore,  Michael." 

"  Not  Dunmore  ?    And  yet  you  wed  Dunmore  ?" 

"  Because  I  love  the  other,  Michael,  who  uses  me  like  a 
pedigreed  hound,  scanning  and  planning  his  kennel-list  to 
mate  me  with  a  blooded  mate  to  his  taste.  Because  I  hate 
him  as  I  love  him,  and  shall  place  myself  beyond  his  power 
to  shame  me.  Because  I  am  dying  of  the  humiliation, 
Michael,  and  would  wish  to  die  so  high  in  rank  that  even 
death  cannot  level  me  to  him.  Now,  tell  me  who  I  love." 

"  God  knows !"  I  said,  in  my  amazement. 

"  True,"  she  said,  "  God  knows  I  love  a  fool." 

"  But  who  is  this  fellow  ?"  I  insisted.  "  What  man  dares 
attempt  to  mate  you  to  his  friends  ?  The  insolence,  the  pre 
sumption — why,  I  thought  I  was  the  only  man  who  might  do 
that !" 

How  she  laughed  at  me  as  I  stood  perplexed  and  scowling 
and  fingering  the  fringe  on  my  leggings,  and  how  her  laugh 
ter  cut,  with  its  undertone  ringing  with  tears.  What  on 
earth  had  changed  her  to  a  woman  like  this,  talking  a  lan 
guage  that  dealt  in  phrases  which  one  heard  and  marked  and 
found  meant  nothing,  with  a  sting  in  their  very  emptiness  ? 

"  Very  well,"  said  I,  "  you  shall  not  have  Dunmore  for  spite 
of  a  fool  unworthy  of  you;  and  as  for  that,  you  shall  not 
have  the  fool  either!" 

"  I  am  not  likely  to  get  him,"  she  said. 

"You  could  have  him  for  the  wish!"  I  cried,  jealously. 
"  I'd  like  to  see  the  man  who  would  not  crawl  from  here  to 
Johnstown  to  kiss  your  silken  shoe!" 

"Would  you?" 

"It  pleases  you  to  mock  me,"  I  said;  "but  I'll  tell  you 
this :  If  I  loved  you  as  a  sweetheart  I'd  do  it !  I'll  have  the 
world  know  it  is  honoured  wherever  you  touch  it  with  your 
foot!" 

234 


CARDIGAN 

"  Do  you  mean  it  ?"  she  asked,  looking  at  me  strangely. 

"  Mean  it !    Have  you  ever  doubted  it  ?" 

The  colour  in  her  face  surged  to  her  hair. 

"  You  speak  like  a  lover,"  she  said,  with  a  catch  in  her 
breath. 

"  I  speak  like  a  man,  proud  of  his  kin !"  said  I,  suspicious 
ly,  alert  to  repel  ridicule.  Lover!  What  did  she  mean  by 
that  ?  Had  I  not  asked  pardon  for  my  foolishness  in  Johnson 
Hall  ?  And  must  she  still  taunt  me  ? 

If  she  read  my  suspicions  I  do  not  know,  but  I  think  she 
did,  for  the  colour  died  out  in  her  face  and  she  set  her  lips 
together  as  she  always  did  when  meaning  mischief. 

"  I  pray  you,  dear  friend,"  she  said,  wearily,  "  concern 
yourself  with  your  kin  as  little  as  I  do.  Bid  me  good-bye, 
now.  I  am  tired,  Michael — tired  to  the  soul  of  me." 

She  held  out  her  slim  hand.  I  took  it,  then  I  bent  to 
touch  it  with  my  lips. 

"  You  will  not  wed  Dunmore  ?"  I  asked. 

She  did  not  reply. 

"  And  you  will  come  with  me  to  Johnstown  on  the  morrow, 
Silver  Heels?" 

There  was  no  answer. 

"Silver  Heels?" 

"  If  you  are  strong  enough  to  take  me  from  Dunmore,  take 
me,"  she  said,  in  a  dull,  tired  voice. 

"  And — and  from  the  other — the  one  you  love — the  fool  ?" 

"  He  will  leave  me — when  you  leave  me,"  she  answered. 

"  You  mean  to  say  this  pitiful  ass  will  follow  you  and  me 
to  Johnstown !"  I  cried,  excited. 

"  Truly,  he  will !"  she  said,  hysterically,  and  covered  her 
face  with  her  hands.  But  whether  she  was  laughing  or  cry 
ing;  or  doing  both  together  I  could  not  determine;  and  I 
stalked  wrathfully  away,  determined  to  teach  this  same  fool 
that  his  folly  was  neither  to  my  taste  nor  fancy. 

And  as  I  passed  swiftly  southward  through  the  darkening 
town  I  heard  the  monotonous  call  of  the  town  watchman 
stumping  his  beat : 

"  Lanthorn,  and  a  whole  candle-light !  Hang  out  your 
lights  here!  Light — ho!  Maids,  hang  out  your  light,  and 
see  your  lamp  be  clear  and  bright !" 

235 


CHAPTER   XIV 

I  HAD  learned  from  our  host  of  the  "  Virginia  Arms  "  that 
the  so-called  "  Governor's  Hall,"  which  stood  within  the 
limits  of  the  fortifications,  had  been  built  by  the  French  in 
1755.  Poor  Braddock's  brief  debut  before  Fort  Duquesne  in 
that  same  year  interrupted  the  building  of  "  Governor's 
Hall,"  which  was  called  by  the  French  "  La  Fortresse  de  la 
Reine,"  and  which,  with  the  exception  of  our  stone  fort  at 
Johnstown,  was  the  only  formidable  and  solidly  fortified 
edifice  of  stone  west  of  the  Hudson. 

When  in  '58  our  troops  seized  Fort  Duquesne  and  razed  it, 
they  not  only  spared  La  Fortresse  de  la  Reine,  but  completed 
it — in  exceeding  poor  taste — set  the  arms  of  Virginia  over 
the  portal,  ran  up  their  red,  powder-stained  flag,  and  saluted 
"Governor's  Hall"  with  hurrahs  of  satisfaction,  drums  and 
fifes  playing  "  The  White  Cockade." 

Now  the  hall  served  sometimes  as  a  court-house,  sometimes 
as  a  temporary  jail,  often  as  a  ballroom,  occasionally  as  the 
Governor's  residence  when  he  came  to  Fort  Pitt  from  Will- 
iamsburg. 

In  it  he  gave  audiences  to  all  plaintiffs,  white  or  Indian; 
in  it  he  received  deputies  from  other  colonies  or  from  Eng 
land. 

The  Governor  of  Virginia  lived  on  the  second  floor  while 
sojourning  at  Pittsburg;  under  his  white  and  gold  apart 
ments  stretched  a  long,  blank,  stone  hall,  around  the  walls  of 
which  ran  a  wooden  balcony  half  way  between  the  stone  flag 
ging  and  the  ceiling  of  massive  buckeye  beams. 

It  was  in  this  naked  and  gloomy  hall,  damp  and  rank  with 
the  penetrating  odour  of  mortar  and  dropping,  mouldy  plaster, 
that  my  Lord  Dunmore  consented  to  receive  the  old  Cayuga 
chief,  Logan,  of  the  clan  of  the  Wolf,  and  by  right  of  birth 

236 


CARDIGAN 

— which  counts  not  with  chiefs  unless  they  be  sachems,  too — 
the  chief  also  of  the  Oquacho  of  the  Oneida  nation. 

Towards  dusk  a  company  of  red-coated  British  infantry, 
with  drummers  leading,  left  the  barracks  opposite  our  inn, 
the  "  Virginia  Arms,"  and  marched  away  towards  "  Gov 
ernor's  Hall,"  drummers  beating  "  The  Huron."  A  crowd  of 
men  and  boys  trailed  along  on  either  flank  of  the  column, 
drawn  by  curiosity  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  Logan,  "  The  White 
Man's  Friend,"  who  was  to  ask  justice  this  night  of  the  most 
noble  Governor  of  Virginia,  the  great  Earl  of  Dunmore. 

When  the  distant  batter  of  the  drums,  echo  and  beat,  had 
died  away  down  the  dark  vista  of  the  King's  Road,  I  left  my 
window  in  the  "  Virginia  Arms "  and  descended  the  stair 
way  into  the  street  below,  where  Jack  Mount  and  the  Weasel 
ruffled  it  bravely  and  swaggered  to  and  fro,  awaiting  my 
coining. 

Mulled  wine  and  sundry  cups  of  cider,  mixed  rashly  with 
long  libations  of  James  Rolfe's  humming  ale,  had  set  their 
heads  and  tongues  a-buzzing.  They  were  glorious  in  their 
dingy  buckskins,  coon-skin  caps  cocked  over  their  left  ears, 
thumbs  hooked  jauntily  under  their  arm-pits.  They  now 
occupied  the  middle  of  the  street  and  patrolled  it  gayly, 
singing  and  shouting  and  interrupting  traffic,  returning  a 
jest  for  a  gibe,  a  laugh  for  a  smile,  or  a  terrible  threat  for 
any  wayfarer  who  dared  complain  of  being  hustled  or  trodden 
on. 

Men  instinctively  accorded  them  the  room  they  seemed  to 
desire;  women  understood  them  better,  and  took  right  of 
way,  smiling  the  reproof  which  always  brought  the  swag 
gerers  up,  cap-tails  sweeping  the  street  in  extravagant  salute. 
For  there  appeared,  in  those  two  graceless  bibbers  of  wines, 
that  gravity  and  politeness  of  intoxication  which  so  gro 
tesquely  parodies  the  dignity  of  gallantry,  and  with  which 
it  is  almost  hopeless  for  sober  people  to  contend. 

However,  I  spoke  to  them  so  cuttingly  that  they  relapsed 
into  injured  silence  and  ambled  along  on  either  side  of  me 
without  serious  offence  to  passing  citizens. 

We  soon  found  ourselves  in  a  crowd,  the  current  of  which 
swept  down  the  King's  Road  towards  the  fortress;  and  we 
followed  in  the  wake,  while  past  us  rode  companies  of  officers, 

237 


CARDIGAN 

gentlemen,  and  sometimes  squads  of  the  Governor's  horse — 
those  same  gay,  flame-coloured  Virginians  whom  I  had  so  ad 
mired  at  Johnstown  a  month  ago. 

Coaches  passed  us,  too,  rolling  towards  the  fortress,  and 
through  the  glass  windows  we  caught  glimpses  of  ladies  in 
cloaks  of  swan's-down,  with  their  plumes  and  jewels  shining 
in  the  rays  of  the  coach-lamps.  Gilded  sedan-chairs  began 
to  appear,  gayer  and  more  painted  and  polished  than  our 
chairs  in  Johnstown,  and  the  bearers  often  in  handsome 
liveries,  with  a  major-domo  leading  the  way  and  footmen  to 
heel,  and  my  lady  peeping  out  at  us  shabby  foot-farers  plod 
ding  along  in  the  street  beside  her. 

Cresap's  men  were  plentiful  among  the  crowd,  some  of 
them  sullen  and  muttering,  others  loud  in  their  demands  for 
Cresap's  release,  threatening  trouble  for  those  who  had  jailed 
their  leader,  and  careless  who  heard  them.  There  were  a  few 
forest-runners  dressed  as  we  were,  numbers  of  riflemen  in 
green  capes  and  gray  wool  shirts,  and  rangers  in  brown  and 
yellow  deer-skins,  with  thrums  dyed  scarlet  or  purple. 

A  short,  thick-set  fellow,  wearing  a  baldrick  fringed  with 
scalps,  was  pointed  out  by  people  as  one  of  Boone's  and  liar- 
rod's  dare-deyils;  and  truly  he  looked  his  part,  though  the 
scalp-belt  pleased  me  not. 

I  heard  him  boasting  that  the  trophies  were  Wyandotte 
scalps,  which  news,  if  true,  meant  one  more  ally  for  the 
Cayuga  and  one  more  enemy  for  the  colonies  when  the 
breach  with  England  came.  It  sickened  me  to  hear  the  great 
fool  boast. 

The  bulk  of  the  throng,  however,  was  made  up  of  sober, 
peaceful  citizens,  men  of  the  quiet  classes,  in  homespun 
and  snuffy  hats,  guiltless  of  the  silver  buckle  on  knee  or 
shoe,  silent,  reserved,  thoughtful  men  of  moderate  gesture 
and  earnest  eyes,  whose  rare  voices  disturbed  no  one  and 
whose  inoffensive  conduct  rebuked  the  rufflers  as  no  words 
could  do. 

Jack  Mount,  who  at  first  appeared  inclined  to  play  the  role 
of  a  marching  orator  and  distribute  morsels  of  his  wit  and 
learning  to  all  who  would  pay  him  the  fee  of  their  attention, 
subsided  of  his  own  accord  among  the  quiet  company  wherein 
we  now  found  ourselves,  and  contented  himself  and  the 

238 


CARDIGAN 

Weasel  with  a  series  of  prodigious  yawns,  at  which  they  both 
never  seemed  to  tire  of  laughing. 
They  also  sang  in  a  subdued  chorus : 

"  Quak'ress,  Quak'ress,  whither  away? 
Pray  thee  stay  thee,  Quak'ress  gray. 
I  thy  Quaker  fain  would  be, 
Yet  dare  not  swear  I  care  for  thee!" 

However,  the  few  Quakers  in  the  throng  took  no  offence, 
and  I  presently  nudged  my  mannerless  comrades  into  a 
snickering  silence.  « 

The  people  ahead  of  us  had  now  stopped,  and,  looking 
over  their  heads,  I  saw  the  dark  shape  of  the  "  Governor's 
Hall,"  partly  illuminated  by  two  great  lanthorns  set  in  iron 
sockets  flanking  the  portal.  Shining  in  the  feeble  light 
moved  the  bayonets  of  the  guards  above  the  darkly  massed 
crowd,  while  coach  after  coach  rolled  up  and  chair  after  chair 
deposited  its  burden  of  bejewelled  beauty  at  the  gateway. 
And  all  these  people,  all  these  dainty  dames  and  gallants, 
had  come  to  see  the  famous  Logan — to  hear  the  great  Cayuga 
orator,  "  The  Friend  of  the  White  Man,"  ask  why  his  little 
children  had  been  slain  by  the  white  men,  whose  faithful 
friend  he  had  been  so  long.  Truly,  there  might  be  here 
something  newer  than  the  stale  play  at  the  Theatre  Royal.  It 
was  not  every  day  that  my  lady  might  hear  and  see  an  old 
man  asking  why  his  children  had  been  murdered. 

The  crowd  in  front  of  us  was  compact,  yet  when  Mount 
set  his  broad  chest  against  it,  the  people  hastily  made  a 
lane  for  him.  The  Weasel  and  I  followed  our  big  com 
panion,  elbowing  our  way  to  the  portal,  where  Mr.  Patrick 
Henry  awaited  us  and  passed  us  through  the  sentries  and 
guards  and  pompous  big-bellied  tip-staves  who  turned  up 
their  vinous  noses  at  the  three  shabby  men  from  the  forest. 

Candle-light  softened  the  bare  walls  and  benches;  candle 
light  set  silks  and  jewels  in  a  blaze  where  the  ladies,  banked 
up  like  beds  of  rustling  roses,  choked  the  wooden  balcony 
above  our  heads,  murmuring,  whispering,  fluttering  fans  and 
scarfs  till  the  perfumed  breeze  from  their  stirrings  fanned 
my  cheeks.  And  more  of  them  were  arriving  every  moment; 
the  wooden  stairway  leading  to  the  gallery  was  ablaze  with 

239 


CARDIGAN 

starred  sashes  and  petticoats,  and  twinkling  satin  shoon, 
with  now  and  then  the  sparkle  of  a  hilt  as  some  scented  gal 
lant  ascended  with  his  fluttering  and  gorgeous  convoy. 

The  scarlet  coats  of  colonial  and  British  officers  spotted 
the  galleries;  here  and  there  a  silver  gorget  caught  the  light, 
blinding  the  eyes  with  brilliancy,  only  to  turn  and  sink  to  a 
cinder  as  the  wearer  moved. 

I  looked  for  Silver  Heels,  but,  from  the  floor  below,  all 
faces  were  vague  and  delicate  as  massed  blossoms  in  a  gar 
den,  and  eyes  sparkled  as  faintly  as  dew  on  velvet  petals  all 
unfolded. 

At  the  end  of  the  hall  two  carpeted  steps  led  to  a  stone 
platform  hung  with  a  flag  and  the  arms  of  Virginia.  This 
was  the  Governor's  audience-seat;  the  gilded  chair  in  the 
centre  was  for  him;  the  tables  that  flanked  it  for  his  secre 
taries. 

For  envoys,  deputies,  and  for  all  plaintiffs,  red  benches 
faced  the  platform;  behind  these  stretched  rank  on  rank  of 
plain,  unpainted  seats  for  the  public,  or  as  much  of  it  as  the 
soldiers  and  tip-staves  thought  proper  to  admit. 

This  same  public  was  now  clamouring  at  the  gate  for  right 
of  entrance  without  favour  or  discrimination,  and  I  could  hear 
them  protesting  and  shuffling  at  the  portal  behind  us,  while 
the  soldiers  disputed  and  the  tip-staves  tapped  furiously  on 
the  stones  with  their  long,  tasselled  wands. 

"  Why  should  not  the  public  enter  freely  a  public  place  ?" 
I  asked  of  Patrick  Henry. 

"  They  will,  one  day,"  he  said,  with  his  grave  smile. 

"Drums  beating,"  added  Mount,  loudly,  but  withered  at 
once  under  the  sharp  stare  of  displeasure  with  which  Mr. 
Henry  favoured  him. 

We  now  took  seats  on  the  last  of  the  red  benches,  which 
stood  near  the  centre  of  the  hall,  and  in  one  corner  of  which 
I  perceived  Logan  sitting  bolt  upright,  eyes  fixed  on  space, 
brooding,  unconscious  of  the  thronged  beauty  in  the  galleries 
above  him  or  of  the  restless  public  now  pouring  into  the  hall 
behind  his  back. 

Mr.  Henry  took  his  seat  beside  the  stricken  chief;  next 
followed  Jack  Mount,  lumbering  to  his  place;  and  I  heard  a 
stir  pass  around  the  gallery  with  whispers  of  wonder  and 

240 


CARDIGAN 

admiration  for  the  giant,  followed  by  a  titter  as  the  little 
Weasel  trotted  to  his  seat  next  to  Mount.  I  sat  down  beside 
the  Weasel,  closing  the  row  on  our  bench,  and  turned  around 
to  watch  the  people  filling  up  the  hall  behind  me.  They  were 
serious,  sober-eyed  people,  and,  unlike  the  gay  world  in  the 
galleries,  had  apparently  not  come  to  seek  amusement  in  the 
clothes  of  three  shabby  rangers  or  in  the  dumb  grief  of  a 
savage. 

"  They  are  mostly  patriots,"  whispered  the  Weasel,  "  pep 
pered  with  Tories  and  sprinkled  with  Dunmore's  spies.  But 
they  don't  blab  what  they  know — trust  them  for  that,  Mr. 
Cardigan." 

"  I  can  see  Paul  Cloud  and  Timothy  Boyd  sitting  together, 
and  our  host  of  the  '  Virginia  Arms,'  Rolf  e,"  I  said,  lean 
ing  to  search  the  audience.  Then  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  a 
face  I  knew  better,  the  scarred,  patched-up  visage  of  the  man 
whom  I  had  made  to  taste  his  own  hatchet.  Startled,  and 
realizing  for  the  first  time  the  proximity  of  Walter  Butler, 
I  hunted  the  hall  for  him  with  hopeful  eyes,  for  I  meant  to 
seek  him  and  kill  him  without  ceremony  when  the  first  chance 
came.  I  could  not  find  him,  however,  but  in  a  corner  near 
the  door,  whispering  together  and  peeping  about,  I  discovered 
his  other  two  creatures,  Wraxall,  the  Johnstown  barber,  and 
Toby  Tice,  the  treacherous  tenant  of  Sir  William.  Where 
the  cubs  were  the  old  wolf  was  not  far  away,  that  was  certain. 
But  search  as  I  might  I  could  find  nothing  but  the  wolf's 
stale  trail. 

One  circumstance  impressed  me :  behind  Wraxall  and  Tice 
sat  Saul  Shemuel,  hands  folded  on  his  stomach,  apparently 
dozing  while  waiting  for  the  spectacle  to  begin.  But  he  was 
not  asleep,  for  now  and  again,  between  his  lids,  I  caught  a 
sparkle  of  open  eyes,  and  I  knew  that  his  large,  soft  ears 
were  listening  hard. 

While  I  was  still  watching  Shemuel,  the  Weasel  nudged 
me,  and  I  turned  to  see  the  platform  before  me  alive  with 
gentlemen,  moving  about  and  chatting,  seating  themselves  in 
groups,  while  behind  them  half  a  dozen  British  officers  in  full 
uniform  lounged  or  stared  curiously  up  at  the  packed  bal 
conies. 

Some  of  the  gentlemen  on  the  platform  exchanged  salutes 
Q  241 


C  A  K  D  I  G  A  N 

with  ladies  in  the  balconies,  some  smiled  or  waved  their 
hands  to  friends.  But  that  soon  ceased,  and  the  commotion 
on  the  platform  was  stilled  as  a  gorgeous  tip-staff  advanced, 
banging  his  great  stave  on  the  stones  and  announcing  the 
coming  of  his  Lordship  the  Earl  of  Dunmore,  Royal  Gover 
nor  of  his  Majesty's  colony  of  Virginia.  God  save  the  King ! 

Swish!  swish!  went  the  silken  petticoats  as  the  gallery 
rose;  the  people  on  the  floor  rose  too,  with  clatter  and  shuffle 
and  scrape  of  benches  shoved  over  the  stones. 

Ah!  There  he  was! — painted  cheeks,  pale  eyes,  smirk, 
laces,  bird-claws  and  all — with  a  splendid  order  blazing  on 
his  flame-coloured  sash  and  his  fleshless  legs  mincing  towards 
the  gilded  chair  under  the  canopy  which  bore  the  arms  of 
Virginia  and  the  British  flag. 

Before  he  was  pleased  to  seat  himself,  he  peered  up  into 
the  balcony  and  kissed  his  finger-tips;  and  I,  following  his 
eyes  by  instinct,  saw  Silver  Heels  sitting  in  the  candle-flare, 
scarlet  and  silent,  with  her  sad  eyes  fixed,  not  on  my  Lord 
Dunmore,  but  on  me. 

Before  I  met  her  eyes  I  had  been  sullenly  frightened, 
dreading  to  speak  aloud  in  such  a  company,  scarcely  hoping 
to  find  my  tongue  when  the  time  came  to  voice  my  demands 
so  that  the  whole  town  could  hear.  Now,  with  her  deep, 
steady  eyes  meeting  mine,  fear  fell  from  me  like  a  cloak,  and 
the  blood  began  to  race  through  every  limb  and  my  heart 
beat  "  To  arms !"  so  fearlessly  and  so  gayly  tnat  I  smiled  up 
at  her ;  and  she  smiled  at  me  in  turn. 

Again  the  Weasel  began  twitching  at  my  sleeve,  and  I 
bent  beside  him,  listening  and  watching  the  gentlemen  on 
the  platform. 

"  That's  John  Gibson,  Dunmore's  secretary — the  man  in 
black  on  the  Governor's  left!  That  loud,  bustling  fellow  on 
his  right  is  Doctor  Connolly,  Dunmore's  deputy  for  Indian 
affairs.  He  arrested  Cresap  to  clear  his  own  skirts  of  blame 
for  the  war.  Behind  him  sits  Connolly's  agent,  Captain 
Murdy.  Murdy's  agent  was  Greathouse.  You  see  the  links 
in  the  chain  ?" 

"  Perfectly/'  I  replied,  calmly ;  "  and  I  mean  to  shatter 
them  if  my  voice  is  not  scared  out  of  my  body." 

"  Scourge  me  that  ramshackle  Dunmore !"  whispered 

242 


CARDIGAN 

Mount,  thickly,  leaning  across  the  Weasel.    "  Give  him  hell- 
fire  and  a — hie ! — black  eye — " 

Mr.  Henry  jerked  the  giant's  arm  and  he  relapsed  into  a 
wise  silence,  nodding  his  thanks  as  though  Mr.  Henry  had 
imparted  to  him  an  acceptable  secret  instead  of  a  reproof. 

We  were  near  enough  to  the  platform  to  hear  the  Governor 
chattering  with  Gibson  and  Doctor  Connolly,  and  sniffing  his 
snuff  as  he  peeped  about  with  his  lack-lustre  eyes. 

"  Que  dieu  me  damne!"  he  said,  spitefully.  "But  you 
have  a  mauvais  quart  d'heure  ahead,  Connolly ! — curse  me  if 
you  have  not !  Faith,  I  wash  my  hands  of  you,  and  you  had 
best  make  your  sulky  savage  yonder  some  good  excuse  for 
the  war." 

Connolly's  deep  voice  replied  evasively,  but  Dunmore 
clipped  him  short : 

"  Oh  no !  Oh  no !  The  people  won't  have  that,  Connolly ! 
— skewer  me  if  they  will !  Body  o'  Judas,  Connolly,  you  can't 
make  them  believe  Cresap  started  this  war !" 

Connolly  whispered  something. 

"  Eh  ?  What  ?  I  say  I  wash  my  hands  o'  ye !  Didn't  you 
hear  me  say  I  washed  my  hands?  And  mind  you  clear  me 
when  you  answer  your  filthy  savage.  I'll  none  of  it,  d'ye 
hear?" 

Connolly  flushed  darkly  and  leaned  back.  Gibson  appeared 
nervous  and  dispirited,  but  Captain  Murdy  smiled  cheerfully 
on  everybody  and  took  snuff  with  a  zest. 

'•'And,  Connolly,"  observed  Dunmore,  settling  himself  in 
his  gilded  chair,  "  you  had  best  announce  the  restoration  to 
rank  and  command  of  Cresap.  Ged! — that  ought  to  put  the 
clodhoppers  yonder  in  good  humour,  to  keep  them  from 
snivelling  while  your  dirty  savage  speaks." 

Presently  Connolly  arose,  and,  making  a  motion  for  si 
lence,  briefly  announced  the  restoration  of  Cresap  to  com 
mand.  There  was  no  sound,  no  demonstration.  Those  in 
the  balconies  cared  nothing  for  Cresap,  those  on  the  floor 
cared  too  much  to  compromise  him  with  applause. 

I  heard  Dunmore  complaining  to  Gibson  that  the  first  part 
of  Connolly's  programme  had  fallen  flat  and  that  he,  Dun- 
more,  wanted  to  know  what  Gibson  thought  of  refusing  Lo 
gan  the  right  of  speech. 

243 


CARDIGAN 

Gibson  nervously  shook  his  head  and  signalled  to  the  in 
terpreter,  a  grizzled  sergeant  of  the  Virginia  militia,  to  take 
his  station;  and  when  the  interpreter  advanced,  announcing 
in  English  and  in  the  Cayuga  language  that  the  Governor  of 
Virginia  welcomed  his  brother,  Logan,  chief  of  the  Cayugas, 
warrior  of  the  clan  of  the  Wolf,  and  "  The  White  Man's 
Friend,"  I  saw  Patrick  Henry  touch  Logan  on  the  shoulder. 

Slowly  the  Indian  looked  up,  then  rose  like  a  spectre  from 
his  sombre  blanket  and  fixed  his  sad  eyes  on  Dunmore. 

There  was  a  faint  movement,  a  rustle  from  the  throng  on 
floor  and  gallery,  then  dead  silence,  as  from  the  old  warrior's 
throat  burst  the  first  hollow,  heart-sick  word: 

"Brother!" 

Oh,  the  grim  sadness  of  that  word! — the  mockery  of  its 
bitterness ! — the  desolate  irony  of  despair  ringing  through  it ! 
Brother!  That  single  word  cursed  the  silence  with  an  accu 
sation  so  merciless  that  I  saw  Connolly's  heavy  visage  grow 
purple,  and  Gibson  turn  his  eyes  away.  Only  my  Lord  Dun- 
more  sat  immovable,  with  the  shadow  of  a  sneer  freezing  on 
his  painted  face. 

Logan  slowly  raised  his  arm : — 

"  Through  that  thick  night  which  darkens  the  history  of 
our  subjugation,  through  all  the  degradation  and  reproach 
which  has  been  heaped  upon  us,  there  runs  one  thread  of 
light  revealing  our  former  greatness,  pleading  the  causes  of 
our  decay,  illuminating  the  pit  of  our  downfall,  promising 
that  our  dead  shall  live  again!  Not  in  the  endless  darkness 
whither  priests  and  men  consign  us  is  that  thread  of  light 
to  be  lost;  but  from  the  shadowy  past  it  shall  break  out  in 
brilliancy,  redeeming  a  people's  downfall,  and  wringing  from 
you,  our  subjugators,  the  greeting — Brothers! 

"Fathers:  For  Logan,  that  light  comes  too  late.  Death 
darkens  my  lodge;  my  door  is  closed  to  sun  and  moon  and 
stars.  Death  darkens  my  lodge.  All  within  lie  dead.  Logan 
is  alone.  He,  too,  is  blind  and  sightless ;  like  the  quiet  dead 
his  ears  are  stopped,  he  hears  not ;  nor  can  he  see  darkness  or 
light. 

"  For  Logan,  light  or  darkness  comes  too  late." 

The  old  man  paused ;  the  silence  was  dreadful. 

Suddenly  he  turned  and  looked  straight  at  Dunmore. 

244 


CARDIGAN 

"  I  appeal  to  any  white  man  if  he  ever  entered  Logan's 
lodge  hungry  and  he  gave  him  not  meat;  if  he  ever  came 
cold  and  naked  and  he  clothed  him  not!" 

The  visage  of  the  Earl  of  Dunmore  seemed  to  be  growing 
smaller  and  more  corpse-like.  Not  a  feature  on  his  ghastly 
mask  moved,  yet  the  face  was  dwindling. 

Logan's  voice  grew  gentler. 

"  Such  was  my  love,"  he  said,  slowly.  "  Such  was  my 
great  love  for  the  white  men!  My  brothers  pointed  at  me 
as  they  passed,  and  said,  t  He  is  the  friend  of  white  men.' 
And  I  had  even  thought  to  live  with  you,  but  for  the  in 
juries  of  my  brothers,  the  white  men. 

"  Unprovoked,  in  cold  blood,  they  have  slain  my  kin — all ! 
— all ! — not  sparing  woman  or  child.  There  runs  not  a  drop 
of  my  blood  in  the  veins  of  any  living  creature! 

"Hearken,  Brothers!  I  have  withstood  the  storms  of 
many  winters.  Leaves  and  branches  have  been  stripped  from 
me.  My  eyes  are  dim,  my  limbs  totter,  I  must  soon  fall.  I, 
who  could  make  the  dry  leaf  turn  green  again;  I,  who  could 
take  the  rattlesnake  in  my  palm ;  I,  who  had  communion  with 
the  dead,  dreaming  and  waking;  I  am  powerless.  The  wind 
blows  hard!  The  old  tree  trembles!  Its  branches  are  gone! 
Its  sap  is  frozen !  It  bends !  It  falls !  Peace !  Peace ! 

u  Who  is  there  to  mourn  for  Logan  ?    Not  one !" 

The  old  man  bent  his  withered  head  and  covered  his  face 
with  his  blanket.  Through  the  frightful  stillness  the  painful 
breathing  of  the  people  swept  like  a  smothered  cry;  women 
in  the  balcony  were  sobbing;  somewhere  a  child  wept  un- 
comforted. 

Patrick  Henry  leaned  across  to  me;  his  eyes  were  dim,  his 
voice  choked  in  his  throat. 

"  The  great  orator !"  he  whispered.  "  Oh,  the  great  man ! — 
greatest  of  all!  The  last  word  has  been  said  for  Logan!  I 
shall  not  speak,  Mr.  Cardigan — it  were  sacrilege — now." 

He  rose  and  laid  one  arm  about  the  motionless  chief,  then 
very  gently  he  drew  him  out  into  the  aisle.  There  was  not 
a  sound  in  the  hall  as  they  passed  slowly  out  together,  those 
great  men  who  had  both  struck  to  the  hilt  for  the  honour  of 
their  kindred  and  of  their  native  land. 

245 


CARDIGAN 

Now,  when  at  last  he  had  disappeared,  a  living  spectre  of 
reproach,  which  the  guilt  of  men  had  raised  to  confound  the 
lords  of  the  New  World,  those  gathered  there  to  listen 
breathed  again,  and  hastened  to  forget  that  glimpse  which 
they  had  caught  of  the  raw  heart  of  all  tragedy — man's  in 
humanity  to  man. 

Dunmore  came  slowly  from  his  trance,  mechanically  preen 
ing  his  silken  plumage  and  ruffling  like  a  meagre  bird;  Con 
nolly  rose  from  his  seat  and  shook  himself,  and,  finding 
nothing  better  to  do,  went  about  the  platform,  snuffing  the 
candles,  a  duty  pertaining  to  servants,  but  which  he  was 
doubtless  thankful  to  perform  as  it  brought  his  back  to  the 
spectators  and  gave  his  heavy,  burning  face  a  respite  from 
the  pillory  of  eyes.  Gibson  leaned  heavily  on  his  writing- 
table,  wan,  loose-jawed,  and  vacant-eyed.  As  for  Captain 
Murdy,  he  sat  serenely  in  his  chair,  shapely  legs  crossed,  ex 
amining  the  lid  of  his  snuff-box  with  ever-freshening  interest. 

Above  us  in  the  galleries  some  people  had  risen  and  were 
about  to  leave.  The  rustle  of  silks  and  satins  seemed  to 
break  the  heavy  quiet;  people  breathed  deeply,  shifted  in 
their  seats,  and  turned  around.  Some  stood  up  to  go;  chairs 
and  benches  grated  on  the  stones;  shoes  shuffled  and  tapped 
sharply. 

I  had  already  determined  to  defer  my  interview  with  Lord 
Dunmore,  because,  after  the  great  chief's  speech,  my  poor 
words  must  fall  stale  on  ears  attuned  to  the  majestic  music 
of  a  mighty  soul.  So,  in  the  stir  and  noise  around  us,  I  rose 
and  touched  Jack  Mount,  motioning  him  to  follow.  But  be 
fore  he  could  find  his  feet  and  summon  his  wits  to  set  them 
in  motion,  and  ere  I  myself  had  edged  half-way  to  the  aisle, 
I  heard  Doctor  Connolly  speaking  in  that  loud,  hectoring 
tone,  and  I  caught  the  name  of  Sir  William  Johnson  shouted 
from  the  platform. 

"  If  the  messenger  from  Johnstown  be  present,"  continued 
Doctor  Connolly,  "  let  him  be  assured  of  a  warm  welcome 
from  his  Lordship,  the  Earl  of  Dunmore,  Governor  of  Vir 
ginia." 

So  the  infatuated  Dunmore,  grasping  at  a  straw  to  dam 
the  current  of  public  sentiment,  thought  to  fill  empty  minds 
with  the  news  of  his  betrothal,  trusting  that  as  all  the  world 

246 


CAKDIGAN 

loves  a  lover,  this  same  planet  might  find  an  opportunity  to 
take  him  to  its  sentimental  bosom. 

His  purpose  was  plain  to  me  and  perfectly  loathsome;  and 
as  I  stood  there,  watching  him,  I  could  see  the  rouge  crack 
when  he  simpered.  But  I  would  not  speak  now. 

Presently,  looking  around,  I  found  that  all  those  who  had 
risen  had  again  seated  themselves,  and  that  I,  fascinated  by 
the  repulsive  visage  of  Dunmore,  stood  there  all  alone. 

My  first  impulse  was  to  sit  down  hastily;  my  next  to  keep 
my  feet,  for  it  was  too  late  to  seek  cover  now,  and  Connolly 
was  smiling  at  me,  and  Gibson  nodded  like  a  dazed  mandarin. 
Dunmore,  too,  was  peering  at  me  and  tapping  his  snuff-box 
complacently,  and  the  sight  of  him  brought  the  blood  to  my 
head  and  opened  my  mouth.  But  no  sound  issued.  A  woman 
in  the  gallery  laughed  outright. 

"  Are  you  not  a  messenger  from  Sir  William  Johnson  ?" 
prompted  Connolly,  with  his  domineering  smile  of  patronage. 

"Yes,  Doctor  Connolly,"  I  replied,  slowly.  As  I  spoke, 
fright  vanished. 

There  was  a  pause.  Dunmore  tapped  on  his  box  and 
moistened  his  slitted  mouth  with  a  tongue  which  looked  per 
fectly  blue  to  me,  and  he  fell  a-smirking  and  bridling,  with 
sly,  rheumy  glances  at  the  gallery. 

"  Lord  Dunmore,"  I  said,  steadily,  "  ere  I  inform  you  why 
I  am  here,  you  shall  know  me  better  than  you  think  you  do. 

"  I  am  not  here  to  tell  you  of  that  chain  which  links  the 
Governor  of  Virginia  with  the  corpse  of  Logan's  youngest 
child! — nor  to  count  the  links  of  that  chain  backward,  from 
Greathouse  to  Murdy,  to  Gibson,  to  Connolly,  to — " 

"  Stop !"  burst  out  Connolly,  springing  to  his  feet.  "  Who 
are  you?  What  are  you?  How  dare  you  address  such  lan 
guage  to  the  Earl  of  Dunmore  ?" 

Astonished,  furious,  eyes  injected  with  blood,  he  stood 
shaking  his  mottled  red  fists  at  me;  Dunmore  sat  in  a  heap, 
horrified,  with  the  simper  on  his  face  stamped  into  a  grin  of 
terror.  The  interruption  stirred  up  my  blood  to  the  boiling; 
I  clutched  the  back  of  the  bench  in  front  of  me,  and  fixed  my 
eyes  on  Connolly. 

"  I  do  not  reply  to  servants,"  I  said ;  "  my  business  here  is 
not  with  Lord  Dunmore's  lackeys.  If  the  Earl  of  Dunmore 

247 


CARDIGAN 

knows  not  my  name  and  title,  he  shall  know  it  now!  I  am 
Michael  Cardigan,  cornet  in  the  Border  Horse,  and  deputy 
of  Sir  William  Johnson,  Baronet,  his  Majesty's  Superintend 
ent  of  Indian  Affairs  for  North  America ! 

"  Who  dares  deny  me  right  of  speech  ?" 

Dunmore  lay  in  his  chair,  a  shrunken  mess  of  lace  and 
ribbon;  Connolly  appeared  paralyzed;  Gibson  stared  at  me 
over  his  table. 

"  I  am  not  here,"  I  said,  coolly,  "  to  ask  your  Lordship  why 
this  war,  falsely  called  Cresap's  war,  should  be  known  to 
honest  men  as  '  Dunmore's  war.'  Nor  do  I  come  to  ask  you 
why  England  should  seek  the  savage  allies  of  the  Six  Na 
tions,  which  this  war,  so  cunningly  devised,  has  given  her — " 

"  Treason !  Treason !"  bawled  a  voice  behind  me.  It  was 
Wraxall ;  I  recognized  his  whine. 

"  But,"  I  resumed,  pointing  my  finger  straight  at  the  star 
ing  Governor,  "  I  am  here  to  demand  an  account  of  your 
stewardship!  Where  are  those  Cayugas  whom  you  have 
sworn  to  protect  from  the  greed  of  white  men?  Where  are 
they?  Answer,  sir!  Where  are  Sir  William  Johnson's  wards 
of  the  Long  House?  Where  are  the  Shawanese,  the  Wyan- 
dottes,  the  Lenape,  the  Senecas,  who  keep  the  western  portals 
of  the  Long  House?  Answer,  sir!  for  this  is  my  mission 
from  Sir  William  Johnson.  Answer!  lest  the  King  say  to 
him,  *  O  thou  unfaithful  steward !" 

Hubbub  and  outcry  and  tumult  rose  around  me.  Dunmore 
was  getting  on  his  feet;  Connolly  flew  to  his  aid,  but  the 
Governor  snarled  at  him  and  pushed  him,  and  went  sham 
bling  out  of  the  door  behind  the  platform,  while,  in  the  hall, 
the  uproar  swelled  into  an  angry  shout :  "  Shame  on  Dun- 
more  !  God  save  Virginia !" 

An  officer  in  the  gallery  leaned  over  the  edge,  waving  his 
gold-laced  hat. 

"  God  save  the  King !"  he  roared,  and  many  answered, 
"  God  save  the  King !"  but  that  shout  was  drowned  by  a 
thundering  outburst  of  cheers:  "God  save  our  country! 
Hurrah!  Hurrah!  Hurrah!" 

"  Three  cheers  for  Boston !"  bawled  Jack  Mount,  jumping 
up  on  his  bench;  and  the  rolling  cheers  echoed  from  balcony 
to  pavement  till  the  throng  went  wild  and  even  the  sober 


CARDIGAN 

Quakers  flung  up  their  broad-brimmed  hats.  In  the  gallery 
ladies  were  cheering,  -waving  scarfs  and  mantles;  the  British 
soldiers  at  the  door  looked  in  at  the  astounding  scene,  some 
with  sheepish  grins,  some  gaping,  some  scowling  under  their 
mitred  head-gear. 

Mount  had  caught  me  up  in  his  arms  and  was  shouldering 
his  way  towards  the  door,  yelping  like  a  Mohawk  at  a  corn 
feast;  and  presently  others  crowded  around,  patting  my  legs 
and  cheering,  bearing  me  onward  and  out  past  the  sentinels, 
where,  for  a  moment,  I  thought  soldiers  and  people  would 
come  to  blows. 

But  Mount  waved  his  cap  and  shouted  an  ear-splitting 
watchword :  "  The  ladies !  Honour  the  ladies !"  and  the  crowd 
fell  back  as  the  excited  dames  and  maidens  from  the  balcony 
issued  in  silken  procession  from  the  hall,  filing  between  the 
soldiers  and  the  crowd,  to  enter  coaches  and  chairs  and  dis 
appear  into  the  depths  of  the  starlight. 

I  could  not  find  Silver  Heels,  and  presently  I  gave  up  that 
hope,  for  the  throng,  hustled  by  the  soldiers,  began  shoving 
and  scuffling  and  pressing,  now  forward,  now  backward,  until 
the  breath  was  near  squeezed  from  my  body  and  I  made  out 
to  slip  back  with  Mount  and  Renard  to  the  open  air. 

Mount  was  enthusiastic.  "  Look  sharp  I"  he  said  eagerly. 
"  There  will  be  heads  to  break  anon.  Ha !  See  them  run 
ning  yonder !  Hark !  Do  you  not  hear  that,  Cade  ?  Clink — 
whack!  Bayonet  against  cudgel!  They're  at  it,  lad!  Come 
on !  Come  on !  Give  it  to  the  damned  Tories !" 

The  next  instant  we  were  enveloped  in  the  crowd,  buffeted, 
pushed,  trodden,  hurled  about  like  shuttle-cocks,  yet  ever  re 
treating  before  the  line  of  gun-stocks  which  rose  and  fell 
along  the  outer  edge  of  the  mob. 

The  fight  was  desperate  and  silent,  save  for  the  whipping 
swish  of  ramrods  whistling,  the  dull  shocks  of  blows,  or  the 
ringing  crack  of  a  cudgel  on  some  luckless  pate.  Under  foot 
our  moccasins  moved  and  trampled  among  fallen  hats  and 
wigs,  and  sometimes  we  stumbled  over  an  insensible  form, 
victim  of  gun-stock  or  club  or  a  buffet  from  some  swinging 
fist. 

Once,  forced  to  the  front  where  the  soldiers  were  jabbing 
and  lashing  the  mob  with  gun-butt,  ramrod,  and  leather  belt, 

249 


CARDIGAN 

a  drummer  boy  ran  at  me  and  fell  to  thumping  me  with  his 
drum,  while  a  soldier  cuffed  my  ears  till  I  reeled.  Astonished 
and  enraged  by  such  scurvy  treatment  I  made  out  to  wrest 
the  drum  from  the  boy  and  jam  it  violently  upon  the  head  of 
the  soldier,  so  that  his  head  and  mitre-cap  stuck  out  through 
the  bursted  parchment. 

A  roar  of  laughter  greeted  the  unfortunate  man,  who 
backed  away,  distracted,  clawing  at  the  drum  like  a  cat  with 
its  head  in  a  bag.  Then  the  battle  was  renewed  with  fury 
afresh;  a  citizen  wrested  a  firelock  from  a  soldier,  drove  the 
butt  into  the  pit  of  his  stomach,  and  struck  out  sturdily  in 
all  directions,  shouting,  "  Long  live  our  country !"  Another 
knocked  a  soldier  senseless  and  tore  off  his  white  leggings 
for  trophies — an  operation  that  savoured  of  barbarism. 

"  Scalp  their  legs !  Skin  'em !"  bawled  the  man,  waving 
the  leggings  in  triumph;  and  I  saw  he  was  that  same  ranger 
of  Boone  and  Harrod  who  wore  a  baldrick  of  Wyandotte 
scalps. 

It  began  to  go  hard  with  the  King's  soldiers,  but  they  stuck 
to  the  mob  like  bulldogs,  giving  blow  for  blow  so  stanchly 
and  so  heartily  that  my  blood  tingled  with  pleasure  and  pride, 
and  I  called  out  to  Jack  Mount:  "Look  at  them,  Jack! 
What  very  gluttons  for  punishment!  Nobody  but  British 
could  stand  up  to  us  like  that !" 

A  crack  on  the  sconce  from  a  belt  transformed  my  admira 
tion  into  fury,  and  I  drove  my  right  fist  into  the  eye  of  one 
of  these  same  British  soldiers,  and  followed  it  with  a  swinging 
blow  which  sent  him  spinning,  receiving  at  the  same  moment 
such  a  jolt  in  the  body  that  I,  too,  went  sprawling  and  gasp 
ing  about  until  Mount  pulled  me  out  of  the  crush. 

When  I  had  found  my  breath  again,  and  had  mastered  that 
sick  faintness  which  comes  from  a  blow  in  the  stomach,  I 
prepared  to  return  to  the  fray,  which  had  now  taken  on  a 
more  sinister  aspect.  Bayonets  had  already  been  used,  not 
as  clubs  but  as  daggers;  a  man  was  leaning  against  a  tree 
near  me,  bleeding  from  a  wround  in  the  neck,  and  another 
reeled  past,  tugging  at  a  bayonet  which  had  transfixed  his 
shoulder.  But  the  end  came  suddenly  now;  horsemen  were 
galloping  up  behind  the  jaded  soldiers;  I  saw  Shemuel  dart 
put  of  the  swaying  throng  and  take  to  his  heels,  not  even 

250 


CARDIGAN 

stopping  to  gather  up  hats,  handkerchiefs,  and  wigs,  of  which 
the  sack  on  his  back  was  full  to  the  top. 

When  Shemuel  left  a  stricken  field  it  was  time  for  others 
to  think  of  flight;  this  I  perceived  at  once  when  the  Weasel 
came  scurrying  past  and  called  out  to  me.  Mount  followed, 
lumbering  on  at  full  speed;  the  throng  melted  and  scattered 
in  every  direction,  and  I  with  them.  Trust  me,  there  was 
fine  running  done  that  night  in  Pittsburg  streets,  and  many 
a  tall  fellow  worked  his  legs  as  legs  are  seldom  worked,  for 
the  gentlemen  of  the  Governor's  horse-guards  were  riding 
us  hard,  and  we  legged  it  for  cover,  each  fox  to  his  own 
spinny,  each  rabbit  to  the  first  unstopped  earth.  Tally-ho! 
Stole  away !  Faith,  it  was  merry  hunting  that  night  in  Pitts- 
burg  town,  with  the  towns-people  at  every  window  and  the 
town-watch  bawling  at  our  heels,  and  the  gentlemen  riders 
pelting  down  the  King's  Road  till  those  who  could  double  back 
doubled,  and  walked  panting  to  cover,  with  as  innocent  mien 
as  they  could  muster. 

Mount,  Renard,  Shemuel,  and  I  had  crossed  the  Boundary 
at  respectable  speed,  and  were  now  headed  for  the  dirty  alley 
which  conducted  to  the  rear  door  of  Shemuel's  den,  the  "  Bear 
and  Cubs."  We  were  about  to  enter  this  lane,  no  longer 
fearing  pursuit — and  I  remember  that  Mount  was  laughing, 
poking  the  Weasel  in  his  short-ribs — when,  without  warning, 
five  men  rushed  at  us  in  a  body,  overturning  us  all  save  Jack 
Mount.  The  next  moment  we  were  locked  in  a  struggle ; 
there  was  not  a  cry,  not  an  oath,  not  a  sound  but  the  strained 
gasp  and  heavy  breathing,  at  first;  but  presently  a  piercing 
yell  echoed  through  the  alley,  and  Shemuel  ran  squattering 
into  the  inn.  He  had  stuck  a  handful  of  needles  into  his 
assailant's  leg,  and  the  man  bounded  madly  about,  while  the 
alley  re-echoed  with  his  howls  of  dismay. 

As  for  me,  I  found  myself  clutched  by  that  villain,  Wrax- 
all,  and  I  would  have  shouted  with  joy  had  he  not  held  me  by 
the  windpipe  until  I  was  nigh  past  all  shouting.  The  creat 
ure  was  powerful;  he  held  me  while  Toby  Tice  tried  to  tie 
my  wrists;  but  the  Weasel  fell  upon  them  both  and  kicked 
them  so  heartily  that  they  left  me  and  took  to  their  heels 
perdu. 

And  now  came  the  host  of  the  "  Bear  and  Cubs,"  lanthorn 

251 


CARDIGAN 

in  one  hand,  a  meat-knife  in  the  other,  and  after  him  a  tap- 
boy,  an  hostler,  a  frowzy  maid,  and  finally  Shemuel,  white 
with  fear.  But  reinforcements  had  arrived  too  late — too  late 
to  help  us  take  the  impudent  band,  which  had  fled — too  late 
to  bring  to  life  that  dark  mass  lying  at  the  foot  of  the  wall 
in  the  filth  of  the  alley. 

Mount  seized  the  lanthorn  and  lowered  it  beside  the  shape 
on  the  ground. 

"  His  neck  is  broken,"  he  said,  briefly.  It  was  his  quarry ; 
he  ought  to  know. 

One  by  one  we  took  the  lanthorn  and  looked  in  turn  on 
the  dead. 

"  Greathouse,"  whispered  Mount,  moving  the  body  with  his 
foot. 

"Greathouse,  eh?"  grumbled  the  host  of  the  "Bear  and 
Cubs."  "  Well,  he  can't  lie  here  behind  my  house."  And  he 
caught  him  by  the  heels  and  dragged  him  to  a  black  spot 
under  a  rotten  shed.  There  was  a  cistern  there.  I  moved 
away,  feeling  strangely  faint.  Mount  linked  his  arm  in  mine. 

Presently  there  sounded  a  dull  noise  under  the  ground,  a 
shock  and  thick  splashing. 

"  Greathouse,  eh  ?"  muttered  the  shaggy  innkeeper,  wink 
ing  at  us.  "  Well,  Greathouse  is  in  a  small  house  behind  a 
pot-house  now,  and  the  devil,  no  doubt,  will  see  that  he  lands 
in  a  hot-house!" 

Mount  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  turned  away  indiffer 
ently.  He  had  done  his  part;  he  had  no  slur  for  the  dead. 
The  Weasel  and  I  followed,  and  together  we  traversed  the 
market-square  unmolested,  and  headed  for  the  "  Virginia 
Arms,"  discussing  the  utterly  unprovoked  attack  on  us  by 
Butler's  band. 

There  had  been  five  of  them;  I  had  recognized  Wraxall 
and  Tice,  the  Weasel  identified  Murdy,  Shemuel  had  thrust 
half  his  stock  of  needles  into  one  fellow's  leg,  whom  I  knew 
to  be  the  man  who  had  supped  on  his  own  hatchet,  and  Mount 
had  sternly  accounted  for  his  assailant. 

"  So  Greathouse  is  dead,"  muttered  the  Weasel. 

"  One  thing  is  clear :  they  were  after  you,"  observed  Mount, 
turning  on  me. 

"  It  is  strange,"  I  said,  "  that  Butler  was  not  there.  He 

252 


'  '  GREATHOUSE,'    WHISPERED     MOUNT" 


CARDIGAN 

must  know  what  it  means  for  him  unless  he  can  strike  me 
from  behind,  because  I  shall  never  miss  him,  face  to  face." 

I  spoke  not  in  boast,  nor  in  angry  heat;  I  meant  what  I 
said,  and  devoutly  believed  that  nothing  on  earth  could  shield 
such  a  man  from  the  man  he  had  so  foully  misused. 

Coming  into  Pitt  Street  we  found  all  empty  and  dark  save 
for  the  lanthorn  hanging  on  its  pole  from  every  seventh 
house,  and  a  lone  watchman  who  lifted  his  light  to  scan  us, 
but  durst  not  question  or  stop  us,  though  we  bore  marks 
enough  of  the  fray  to  satisfy  any  friendly  jury  of  our  guilt. 

As  for  Mount,  his  shirt  and  leggings  were  in  rags,  for  he 
had  played  Orlando  Furioso  to  his  simple  heart's  satisfac 
tion,  and  now  one  naked  arm  peeped  coyly  from  a  flapping 
sleeve,  and  his  great  legs  twinkled  white  under  the  tattered 
nether-garments.  The  Weasel,  who  had  a  genius  for  keeping 
himself  neat  under  distressing  circumstances,  appeared  to  be 
none  the  worse  for  wear,  but  guiltless  he  could  not  be,  for 
he  carried  a  soldier's  mitre-cap  in  his  hand  and  obstinately 
refused  to  part  with  the  proof  of  his  valour.  As  for  me,  there 
were  some  seams  which  needed  a  thread,  and  somebody's 
blood  on  my  shirt  which  water  would  wash  away. 

"  I  went  this  noon  to  a  tailor-woman  on  the  Buckeye  Road, 
and  did  command  me  new  deer-skins,"  said  Mount.  "  I  will 
borrow  their  cost  of  you,"  he  added,  naively. 

I  felt  for  my  money-belt  and  luckily  found  it  safe.  Mount 
accepted  the  money  cheerfully,  promising  to  show  me  on  the 
morrow  how  fine  he  could  be  in  new  clothes,  and  mourning 
the  fact  that  his  greasy  garments  had  cost  him  a  cruel  epithet 
that  day  from  a  maid  he  had  attempted  to  kiss  behind  a  barn 
on  three  minutes'  acquaintance. 

"  Faith,  she  mocked  me  for  a  tankard-tip  and  called  me 
pottle-pot,"  he  said,  sadly.  "  God  knows  I  drink  little  for 
my  height,  and  so  I  told  her,  too !" 

We  were  already  at  the  "  "Virginia  Arms,"  and  I  took 
him  by  the  elbow  and  drew  him  firmly  past  the  tap-room. 

"  Are  we  not  to  sniff  a  posset  ?"  he  demanded,  in  injured 
surprise.  But  he  surrendered  without  a  scene,  for  the  late 
fighting  had  cleared  his  head  of  alcohol,  and  we  mounted  to 
my  chamber,  bidding  a  servant  to  fetch  ink-horn,  wax,  sand, 
quill,  and  three  sheets  of  good,  clean  paper. 

253 


CARDIGAN 

When  I  had  lighted  my  candle,  and  the  materials  for  writ 
ing  had  been  brought,  I  sat  down  on  the  bed  and  drew  the 
table  up  before  me. 

"  What  are  we  to  do  while  you  write  ?"  asked  Mount, 
sulkily. 

"  Keep  out  o'  mischief  and  the  tap-room,"  said  I,  mending 
the  quill  with  my  hunting-knife. 

They  stood  around  rather  blankly  for  a  spell  while  I  was 
composing  the  first  letter,  but  presently  I  noticed  they  had 
squatted  on  the  floor  and  were  playing  at  jack-straws  with 
pine  splinters  from  the  boards. 

My  three  letters  cost  me  great  labour;  writing  and  compo 
sition  do  ever  rack  me,  mind  and  body,  for  I  know  that  1 
spell  not  as  others  spell,  nor  write  as  I  ought  to  write  in  the 
Boston  style,  and,  moreover,  those  little  dots  which  warn  the 
wise  reader  that  a  phrase  is  ended  mean  little  to  me;  so  I 
pepper  my  sheet  well  with  them  and  trust  to  God  that  they 
fall  not  on  barren  soil. 

Thus  armed  with  my  quill,  and  doubly  armed  in  the  inno 
cence  of  my  ignorance,  I  made  out  to  accomplish  my  three 
letters.  The  first  was  this : 

"  Sir  William  Johnson,  Bart. 

"  HONOURED  AND  BELOVED  SIR, — My  mission  I  have  discharged 
and  It  hath  come  to  naut.  i  return  to  johnsonhall  Tomorrow, 
setting  out  with  Felicity,  i,  will  explane  all.  War  is  brocken 
out,  ye  Senecas,  Lenape,  Wyandot,  and  Showanese  dugg  up  ye 
hatchett  Cresap  is  fled  ye  fort  and  camp  burnt  Logans  famly 
foully  murderd  with  my  duties  and  respects  to  Ant  Molly  and 
my  duties  and  respectfull  affections  for  you.  I  have  the  honnour 
to  subscribe  myself  your  dutyfull  deputy  and  kinsman 

"  MICHAEL  CARDIGAN 
"  Cornet,  Border  Horse." 

My  second  letter  read  thus : 

"  My  deer  Kinswoman  Mistress  Warren. 

"  DEER  COZZEN, — I  write  to  say  that  I  write  to  acquaint  you 
that  it  Is  my  determination  to  set  out  for  johnsonhall  tomorrow 
morning  therefore  Pray  be  prepared  to  accompanie  me  with  Black 
Betty  and  Your  boxes  i  will  command  a  post-chaise,  escort,  and 
horses  for  such  is  my  right  as  deputy  of  Sir  William,  if  I  ketch 
enny  fools  who  seek  to  mate  you  I  will  harm  them,  i  will  find  a 
suitable  husband  for  you  never  fear  cozzen  i  sign  myself  your 
affectnate  cozzen  MICHAEL  CARDIGAN 

"  Cornet  of  Border  Horse." 
254 


CARDIGAN 

My  third  letter  was  brief : 

"  To  the  Eon :  the  Earl  of  Dunmore, 
Royal  Governor  of  Virginia,  etc. 

"  MY  LORD, — My  kinswoman  Misstress  Felicity  Warren  is  my 
betrothed  and  She  will  leave  Pitt  tomorrow  with  me  and  under 
the  escort  which  it  is  my  right  to  demand  and  your  lordship's 
dutie  to  furnish,  with  post-chaise,  forage,  and  provisions.     Escort 
and  conveyance  should  be  at  the  Virginia  Arms  by  noon. 
"  I  have,  sir,  the  honour 
to  subscribe  myself  y'r 
ob't  servant 

"MICHAEL  CARDIGAN 

"  Special  deputy  of  Sir  Wm.  Johnson,  Bart., 
and  cornet  in  the  Royal  American  Legion  of 
Border  Horse." 


CHAPTER   XV 

{WAS  awakened  shortly  after  daylight  by  a  hubbub  and 
stirring  in  the  street  outside,  and  I  lay  in  bed,  listening, 
half  asleep.  About  six  o'clock  the  Weasel  opened  my  chamber 
door,  saying  that  Pittsburg  was  filling  with  refugees  from 
the  frontier,  and  that  a  battalion  of  militia  under  Cresap 
had  just  left  to  scout  on  the  Monongahela. 

I  asked  him  whether  messengers  had  brought  me  answers 
to  my  letters  from  Lord  Dunmore  and  Miss  Warren,  and  he 
replied  in  the  negative  and  shut  the  door. 

About  seven  I  arose  and  dressed,  standing  by  the  window 
and  looking  out  over  the  square.  The  streets  of  Fort  Pitt 
were  lively  enough  at  this  early  hour;  apparently  since  day 
break  hundreds  of  refugees,  men,  women,  and  toddling  in 
fants,  fleeing  from  the  red  scourge  on  the  outer  frontiers, 
had  been  coming  into  Pittsburg  town.  Many  were  almost 
naked,  proving  their  dire  peril  and  hasty  night  retreat,  some 
drove  a  few  sheep  or  calves,  some  carried  geese  or  chickens  in 
their  arms,  others,  more  fortunate,  guided  oxen  yoked  to  wag 
ons,  on  which  were  piled  bedding,  kettles,  dishes,  and  what  poor 
household  furniture  they  dared  linger  to  gather  before  leaving 
their  homes  to  the  Cayugas  and  their  fields  to  the  timber  wolf. 

At  dawn,  when  the  vanguard  of  this  wretched  procession 
had  first  appeared,  straggling  through  Pittsburg  streets,  the 
town-watch  took  charge  of  the  dazed  fugitives  and  found 
shelter  for  them  in  the  fortress;  but,  as  the  town  awoke  and 
rubbed  its  eyes  to  find  the  streets  swarming  with  exhausted 
strangers  dragging  their  numbed  limbs  or  sitting  on  steps  and 
porches,  the  people  threw  open  their  doors  and  took  the  out 
casts  to  their  firesides.  But  the  houses  of  the  Samaritans 
were  filled  to  overflow  ere  the  cloaked  watchman  had  called 
his  last  hour : 

"  Four  o'clock !  A  sweet  June  morning  and  sad  tidings 
from  the  frontier !" 

256 


CARDIGAN 

And,  as  the  fugitive  creatures  still  came  creeping  in  past 
the  fortress,  the  double  guard  was  called  out  and  squads  told 
off  to  conduct  the  unfortunates  to  the  barracks,  court-house, 
"  Governor's  Hall,"  market  -  sheds,  and  finally  into  the 
churches.  And  it  was  pitiful  to  see  them  making  their  way 
painfully  into  the  square,  where  many  sat  down  on  the  turf, 
and  some  fell  down  in  the  street,  and  others  slept,  leaning 
upright  against  fences  and  trees,  clasping  some  poor  house 
hold  relic  to  their  breasts. 

Bareheaded  children  lay  slumbering  on  stone  steps;  young 
women,  with  infants  at  suck,  sat  dumb  and  vacant-eyed  on 
the  ground,  too  weak  to  reply  to  those  who  offered  aid.  Hag 
gard  men,  dragging  their  rifles,  turned  sunken,  perplexed 
eyes,  slowly  answering  in  monosyllables,  as  though  stunned 
by  the  swift  ruin  which  had  overwhelmed  them. 

And  the  story  repeated  was  always  the  same:  burning  and 
butchery  everywhere;  the  frontier  a  charred,  blood-soaked 
desert ;  homes,  crops,  cattle,  the  very  soil  itself  had  gone  roar 
ing  up  in  smoke,  and  all  behind  was  blackness — hopeless,  un 
utterable  devastation. 

The  living  fled,  the  dead  lay  where  they  had  fallen — and 
the  dead  were  many.  Scarcely  a  family  but  had  lost  a  child 
or  a  father;  few  of  the  aged  escaped;  neighbours  had  fallen 
under  hatchet  and  knife ;  friends  had  disappeared. 

To  and  fro  the  good  people  of  Pitt  hastened  on  their  er 
rands  of  pity;  others,  having  done  their  part,  gathered  in 
groups  discussing  openly  the  riot  of  the  previous  evening  and 
the  scenes  in  "  Governor's  Hall." 

It  was,  truly  enough,  not  the  first  time  that  Pittsburg 
streets  had  been  filled  with  fugitives  from  the  far  frontiers; 
but  last  night's  riot  was  the  first  which  had  ever  disturbed 
the  little  town,  although  there  had  been  a  disturbance  when, 
early  in  the  week,  a  runner  from  Cresap  came  in  to  announce 
the  fate  of  Logan's  children  and  the  rising  of  the  Cayugas. 

But  this  new  outbreak  was  very  different:  people  and  sol 
diers  had  come  to  blows;  blood  had  flowed,  although  nobody 
exactly  understood  for  what  reason  it  had  been  shed.  Patched 
pates  and  plastered  cheeks  were  plentiful  about  the  streets; 
there  were  rumours,  too,  of  tragedies,  but  these  rumours  proved 
baseless  when  the  morning  wore  away.  As  for  the  death  of 
R  257  v 


CARDIGAN 

Greathouse,  nobody  suspected  it,  because  nobody,  except  Dun- 
more  and  his  followers,  was  aware  that  Greathouse  had  fled  to 
Fort  Pitt.  It  is  probable  that  even  Wraxall  and  Murdy  and 
Tice  supposed  that  Greathouse  had  escaped  from  us,  and  that 
he  was  somewhere  in  close  cover,  waiting  an  opportunity  to 
rejoin  them. 

There  appeared  to  be  no  effort  on  the  part  of  the  town- 
watch  or  of  the  soldiers  to  arrest  any  citizen  whose  body  or 
apparel  bore  marks  of  the  conflict.  Citizens  and  soldiers 
eyed  each  other  askance,  but  apparently  without  rancour  or 
malice,  like  generous  adversaries  who  appreciate  a  fight  for 
its  own  sake,  and  respect  each  other  for  stout  blows  given  and 
returned. 

Certainly  neither  could  complain  of  the  scarcity  of  knocks. 
Scores  of  noddles  had  been  laid  open  by  citizens'  cudgels  or 
by  the  brass  buckles  on  the  soldiers'  belts;  scores  of  pates 
bore  brave  bumps  and  pretty  protuberances,  coyly  hiding 
under  patches  that  exhaled  the  aroma  of  vinegar.  Many  a 
respectable  wig  knew  its  rightful  owner  no  longer;  many  a 
pair  of  spectacles  had  been  gathered  into  Shemuel's  basket; 
many,  many  hats  had  vanished  into  memory,  probably,  how 
ever,  to  reappear,  peddled  by  this  same  Shemuel,  when  safe 
opportunity  offered  and  peace  once  more  smiled  her  commer 
cial  smile. 

That  morning  I  had  reckoned  with  my  host  of  the  "  Vir 
ginia  Arms."  As  he  appeared  somewhat  uneasy  about  ihe 
reckoning  of  Jack  Mount  and  the  Weasel,  I  settled  that,  too, 
my  means  permitting  me. 

However,  I  observed  to  Rolfe  that  the  friends  of  liberty 
ought  to  trust  each  other  implicitly,  and  he  answered  that 
they  did,  especially  when  cash  payments  were  made. 

"  Is  that  the  Boston  creed  ?"  I  asked,  scornfully. 

"  I  guess  it  is,"  said  he,  with  a  shrewd  wink. 

I  began  to  detest  the  fellow,  and  was  curt  with  him  as  he 
left  my  room;  but,  when  Cade  Renard  strolled  in  a  few  mo 
ments  later,  I  was  astonished  to  learn  that  this  same  James 
Rolfe  had  aided  Mount  to  throw  the  tea-chests  into  the  sea, 
and  had  beggared  himself  in  contributing  to  every  secret 
patriotic  society  in  Boston. 

That  was  my  first  lesson  in  ethics.  I  began  to  understand 

258 


CARDIGAN 

why  it  was  that  generous  people  turned  niggards  when  it 
came  to  paying  tuppence  tax  on  tea;  how  a  man  might  exact 
what  was  his  due  and  yet  be  no  miser;  and  how  he  might 
beggar  himself  nor  stain  his  name  as  a  spendthrift. 

"  He'll  lend  me  what  he  has,"  said  the  Weasel,  sitting  down 
to  lace  his  hunting-shirt ;  "  but  he  would  be  unpleasant  if  I 
attempted  to  escape  from  here  without  a  reckoning.  I  am 
glad  you  paid;  we  have  no  money.  We  were  speaking  of 
tapping  our  fat  Tory  magistrate  again — " 

"  Taking  the  road  ?"  I  exclaimed. 

"  No,  taking  the  judge's  purse.  He  is  so  fat,  positively  he 
disgusts  us." 

I  looked  at  the  little  man  in  horror.  He  returned  my  gaze 
mildly,  and  tied  the  leather  laces  under  his  chin. 

"  If,"  said  I,  stiffly,  "  you  or  Mount  require  money,  I  beg 
you  will  borrow  it  from  me,  as  long  as  we  travel  together. 
Also,"  I  continued,  angrily,  "you  may  as  well  know  that  I 
do  not  care  to  figure  with  you  and  Jack  Mount  in  any  book 
or  ballad  or  pamphlet  decorated  with  a  picture  of  a  gallows !" 

"  Do  you  suppose  we  like  that  picture  either  ?"  asked  the 
Weasel,  in  astonishment.  "  Why,  Mr.  Cardigan,  that  picture 
is  perfectly  repulsive  to  us." 

"  Then  why  do  you  take  the  King's  highway  ?"  I  asked, 
blankly. 

"  You  are  hurting  my  feelings,"  said  the  Weasel.  "  Why 
do  you  use  such  terms?  Besides,  we  discriminate;  we  only 
offer  ourselves  some  slight  recompense  for  the  disgust  which 
overpowers  us  when  we  meet  with  fat  Tory  magistrates  on 
a  moonlit  highway." 

I  stared  at  him,  indignant  at  the  levity  with  which  he  used 
me;  but  after  a  moment  I  was  obliged  to  believe  that  he  in 
tended  no  levity,  for  never  had  I  seen  such  guileless  inno 
cence  in  any  features.  Clearly  the  man's  past  sorrows  had 
been  too  much  for  his  mind.  He  was  simple. 

There  was  little  profit  in  continuing  the  subject ;  if  Renard 
and  Mount  chose  to  justify  their  reputations  I  could  not 
prevent  them.  As  far  as  I  was  concerned  they  had  proved 
kindly  and  loyal,  and,  now  that  I  was  so  soon  to  part  with 
them,  I  desired  to  do  so  in  gratitude  and  friendship. 

It  was  already  past  eight  o'clock  by  the  WeasePs  large 

259 


CARDIGAN 

silver  watch,  and  still  no  reply  came  to  me  from  either  Dun- 
more  or  Silver  Heels.  Renard  and  I  looked  out  of  the  win 
dow,  watching  the  soldiers  conducting  the  homeless  frontier 
families  to  the  barracks.  We  spoke  of  last  night's  riot,  com 
puting  the  casualties  suffered  by  the  soldiers  and  wondering 
what  proclamation  Dunmore  would  issue,  or  if  he  would  have 
the  courage  to  issue  any,  considering  how  the  people  had 
shown  their  detestation  of  him. 

"  If  you  were  not  a  deputy  of  Sir  William  Johnson,  Dun- 
more  would  have  jailed  you  for  what  you  said,"  observed  the 
Weasel.  "  You  have  cast  the  last  grain  into  the  scales  and 
they  have  tipped  him  out,  repudiated  and  dishonoured.  Hie 
jacet  Dunmoreus,  in  articulo  mortis.  But  Walter  Butler 
lives,  friend  Michael.  Beware,  sir!  Latet  anguis  in  herba! — 
there  lies  the  snake  perdu !" 

"Who  are  you,  Weasel?"  I  asked,  curiously.  "Truly, 
you  are  smoother  in  Latin  than  am  I;  but  I  confess  myself 
disguised  in  this  hunting-shirt,  whereas  you  wear  it  to  the 
manner  born.  Yet,  I  swear  you  are  no  forest-runner  withal." 

"  I  was  born  a  gentleman,"  said  the  Weasel,  simply.  "  I 
read  the  classics  for  my  pleasure — but  I  am  forgetting,  Mr. 
Cardigan,  I  am  forgetting  so  many,  many  things.  It  is  six 
teen  years  now  since  I  met  with  my  trouble — sixteen  years 
to  forget  in — and  that  with  a  mind  which  is  not  quite  clear, 
sir,  not  quite  clear.  However,  I  have  remembered  enough 
Latin  to  entertain  you,  and  that  is  something,  after  all,  if  it 
is  not  an  answer  to  your  question." 

He  spoke  gently,  but  there  was  a  sting  in  the  tail  of  his 
speech  which  I  certainly  deserved  for  my  impertinent  prying 
into  his  past,  and  I  very  promptly  asked  his  pardon  for  my 
thoughtlessness. 

"  I  am  certain  it  was  nothing  more  than  that,"  he  said, 
cheerfully ;  "  pray  you,  my  dear  sir,  believe  me  that  I  took  no 
offence.  Sometimes  my  tongue  is  sharp;  my  infirmity  is  my 
poor  apology.  I  do  not  wonder  at  your  amusement  to  hear  a 
shabby  forest-runner  stammer  Latin.  But  I  shall  forget  my 
Latin,  too;  I  shall  forget  all  save  what  I  pray  to  forget." 

With  his  forefinger  he  quietly  obliterated  a  tear  in  each  eye. 

"  You  know  I  had  a  wife  ?"  he  asked. 

"  And  baby,"  I  added,  mechanically. 

260 


CAKDIGAN 

"Exactly,  sir;  a  wife  and  baby  girl — the  sweetest  little 
maid—" 

And,  following  his  mania,  to  which  I  lent  myself  out  of 
pity,  he  repeated  the  fragments  of  the  tale  I  had  come  to 
know  so  well,  adding  nothing  new,  nor  casting  any  light  on 
anything  he  said. 

Mount  came  in  noisily  while  the  Weasel  was  speaking,  but, 
though  the  big  fellow  was  impatient  and  burning  to  exhibit 
the  new  clothes  which  he  wore,  he  sat  down  quietly  until 
Renard  had  finished  the  familiar  tale.  Heaven  alone  knows 
how  many  times  Mount  had  heard  it,  but  his  sympathy  never 
failed,  and  now  he  looked  so  tenderly  and  lovingly  at  the 
Weasel  that  I  almost  loved  him  for  it,  swaggering,  tippling, 
graceless  purse-taker  that  he  was. 

However,  after  maintaining  for  a  full  minute  that  sober 
silence  which  decency  as  well  as  his  loyal  affection  for  the 
Weasel  required,  he  ventured  to  call  our  attention  to  his  new 
buckskins,  fitted,  cut,  and  stitched  in  twenty-four  hours  by 
four  tailor-women,  whom  he  described  as  modest  and  yet  no 
bigots,  as  they  had  appreciated  the  kiss  apiece  which  he  had 
joyously  bestowed  upon  them. 

"  No  saucy  maid  durst  call  me  pottle-pot  now !"  he  said, 
triumphantly,  smoothing  his  soft,  new  garments  with  his 
fingers,  and  regarding  his  deeply  fringed  legs  with  nai've 
delight.  "  Which  brings  to  mind  that  I  have  drunk  no  morn 
ing  draught  this  day,"  he  added,  clacking  his  tongue  and 
winking  at  the  Weasel. 

"  Mr.  Cardigan  is  in  some  trouble,"  observed  the  Weasel, 
hesitating. 

"  Oh,  then  we  won't  drink  while  a  friend  is  in  trouble," 
said  Mount,  sitting  down  on  the  bed. 

"  It  is  only  that  I  have  no  letter  from  Dunmore  or  from 
Miss  Warren,"  I  muttered,  looking  out  into  the  street  to  spy 
if  a  messenger  were  coming  our  way. 

We  sat  there  in  silence,  gnawing  our  knuckles,  and  it  did 
not  please  me  to  wait  Lord  Dunmore's  pleasure  like  a  servant. 

That  Silver  Heels  had  not  yet  written  also  displeased  me, 
for  I  was  not  then  habituated  to  the  ways  of  a  maid. 

"  Do  you  think  the  runner  I  hired  to  carry  my  letter  to  Sir 
William  will  be  scalped?"  I  asked,  turning  to  look  at  Mount. 

261 


CARDIGAN 

"  He  has  been  scalped,"  said  Mount,  quietly. 

Thunderstruck,  I  sprang  to  my  feet,  and  finally  found 
tongue  to  ask  how  he  had  heard  such  news. 

"  Why,  lad,"  he  said,  modestly,  "  I  followed  your  runner 
last  night  when  he  left  you  abed  here,  and  he  had  not  gone 
ten  paces  from  this  inn  ere  a  man  left  the  shadow  of  the 
trees  yonder  to  dog  us  both.  It  was  what  I  feared;  but, 
Lord! — I  caught  the  fellow  by  the  market  yonder,  and 
trounced  him  till  he  could  neither  stand  nor  sit.  I  was  a 
fool;  I  should  have  followed  your  runner  and  brought  him 
back.  I  did  follow,  but  he  had  struck  a  fast  pace,  and  be 
sides  they  delayed  me  at  the  fortress  gate  with  questions 
about  my  business.  When  I  cleared  the  sentries  I  started 
to  run;  but  my  journey  was  short  enough,  God  knows!" 

He  paused,  looking  down  at  the  fur  cap  he  was  slowly 
twirling  on  his  thumb. 

"  Your  messenger  lay  dead  by  the  wood's  edge,"  he  added, 
abruptly. 

"  I  had  not  dreamed  the  savages  were  so  near,"  said  I, 
horrified. 

"  Some  savages  are,"  he  observed. 

"Was  he  scalped?"  I  asked. 

"  In  Mohawk  style,  lad." 

"  Impossible !"  I  cried. 

"  Not  at  all.  I  say  he  was  scalped  in  Mohawk  fashion, 
leaving  the  raw  strip  over  the  forehead,  but  I  did  not  say 
that  Mohawks  scalped  him." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  I  asked,  huskily. 

"  I  mean  that  Walter  Butler's  men  did  this,  and  that  your 
letter  is  now  in  Dunmore's  hands." 

Rage  blinded  me.  Doubtless  I  made  some  noise  and  talk 
ed  wildly  of  seeking  Dunmore,  and  I  know  I  found  myself 
struggling  with  Mount  to  leave  the  room.  But  I  was  an 
infant  in  his  grasp,  and  presently  I  sat  down  again,  per 
force,  while  Mount  and  Renard  reasoned  with  me  somewhat 
sternly. 

"  The  sooner  you  leave  Pitt  the  safer  for  you,"  said  Mount. 
"  The  town  talks  of  little  but  your  accusation  of  Dunmore 
last  night.  You  may  think  yourself  safe  because  you  are  Sir 
William  Johnson's  deputy,  but  I  know  that  Dunmore  and 

2G2 


CARDIGAN 

Butler  will  treat  you  as  they  did  your  messenger  if  you  give 
them  half  a  chance.  What's  to  prove  that  the  Cayugas  be 
not  your  murderers  ?  Tush,  lad !  This  is  no  time  for  boyish 
fury.  Get  your  kinswoman,  Miss  Warren,  out  of  this  town. 
Get  her  out  to-night.  Are  you  waiting  for  Dunmore's  escort 
and  horses  ?  You  will  see  neither,  save  perhaps  in  pursuit  of 
you.  Why,  lad,  the  Governor  is  crazed  with  the  disgrace  you 
have  brought  upon  him!  Trust  me,  he  will  stop  at  nothing 
where  he  can  strike  unseen." 

"  You  mean  he  will  not  answer  my  letter  or  accord  me  es 
cort  ?"  I  asked,  astonished. 

"  If  he  furnished  you  escort,  it  would  be  an  escort  of  mur 
derers  who  would  take  care  you  never  saw  Johnstown,"  said 
the  Weasel. 

"  Can't  you  feel  that  you  are  in  a  trap  ?"  asked  Mount. 
"  Gad !  it  should  pinch  you  ere  this !" 

"And  you  leave  it  to  us  to  open  it  for  you,"  added  the 
Weasel,  sagely.  "  We  are  none  too  safe  here  ourselves. 
Mayhap  some  of  those  same  pamphlets  and  ballads  and  books 
may  be  sold  hereabouts  to  our  discredit." 

"  I  also  think  that  Cade  and  I  have  outstayed  our  wel 
come,"  said  Mount,  with  a  grin.  "  If  we  meet  your  friend 
Butler,  run  we  must." 

At  that  moment  Rolfe  came  up  from  below,  bearing  in  his 
hand  a  letter  for  me,  and  saying  that  it  had  been  brought 
hither  by  a  servant  in  Lady  Shelton's  livery. 

I  took  the  letter;  the  seal  had  already  been  broken,  and  I 
glared  at  Rolfe  and  pointed  to  it. 

"Ay,"  he  observed,  shaking  his  head;  "the  slavering  ser 
vant  fetched  it  so.  It  may  be  accident;  it  may  be  design, 
Mr.  Cardigan.  You  best  know,  sir,  who  may  be  your  foes  in 
Pittsburg  town,  and  what  they  might  gain  by  a  knowledge 
of  your  letters." 

"  The  inn,  here,  is  closely  spied,"  observed  Mount,  coolly. 
"  Doubtless  my  lady  Shelton's  lackeys  can  be  bribed  as  well 
as  the  King's  ministers." 

"  The  sooner  we  leave  the  happier  we  shall  be,"  said  the 
Weasel,  cheerfully.  "Jimmy  Rolfe,  that  stout  post-chaise, 
well  provisioned,  and  four  strong  horses  might  help  us  to 
night—eh,  friend?" 

263 


CARDIGAN 

"I  cannot  pay  for  that,"  I  said,  blankly,  looking  up  from 
my  letter. 

"  The  chaise  is  yours,"  said  liolfe,  resentfully.  "  Pay  when 
you  can,  sir ;  I  trade  not  with  friends  in  need."  And  he  went 
out,  disrespectfully  slamming  the  door. 

"  A  rare  man,"  said  Mount,  "  but  touchy,  lad,  touchy. 
Give  the  devil  his  due  and  Jim  Rolfe  would  wear  shillings  on 
his  coat-tails." 

"  He  is  a  loyal  friend,"  I  said,  reddening.  "  I  have  much 
to  learn  of  men." 

"  And  men  have  much  to  learn  of  you,  lad !"  said  Mount, 
heartily.  "  Come,  sir,  read  your  nosegay,  and  may  it  bring 
you  happiness !  Weasel,  turn  thy  back  and  make  pretence  to 
catch  flies." 

I  went  over  to  the  window,  and,  leaning  against  the  bars, 
opened  the  violated  letter  and  read  it  carefully: 

"  DEAR  COZZEX  MICHAEL, — I  am  not  permitted  to  accompany  you 
today  to  Johnstown  it  being  a  racing  day  and  I  pledged  to  attend 
with  Lady  Shelton  and  divers  respectable  ladies  and  gentlemen. 

"  And  oh  Micky  why  did  you  say  such  things  to  Lord  Dunmore 
last  night?  I  have  been  ill  of  it  all  night  and  in  a  fever  for  fear 
they  may  harm  you,  though  Lady  Shelton  assures  me  your  person 
is  safe,  being  a  deputy  of  Sir  William,  and  further  says  that  you 
are  an  unmannerly  and  bold  rebel  and  desires  not  your  presence 
in  her  house,  and  desires  me  to  inform  you.  Oh  Micky  what 
have  you  done?  I  do  not  desire  any  longer  to  wed  Lord  Dunmore 
and  be  a  Countess,  but  I  had  not  thought  to  have  you  speak  so  to 
Lord  Dunmore.  He  came  here  last  evening  in  a  white  fury  and 
showed  me  the  letter  you  had  written  to  him.  He  says  that  you 
are  not  the  messenger  he  expected,  though  you  may  be  a  deputy, 
and  he  vows  he  will  not  be  so  vilely  used,  and  he  will  not  give  me 
up  but  will  publish  the  banns  to-day  in  Pitt,  come  what  may. 
Which  has  frightened  me  so  I  write  to  you  that  I  do  not  wish  to 
be  a  countess  any  more  and  would  be  glad  to  go  to  Aunt  Molly 
and  Sir  William. 

"  I  will  rise  from  bed  at  eleven  o'clock  to-night  and  go  out  into 
the  orchard  with  Black  Betty.  Pray  you  cozzen,  greet  me  with 
a  post-chaise  and  take  me  away  from  these  dreadful,  dreadful 
people.  Your  cozzen, 

"  FELICITY. 

Postscriptum 

"  To  witt,  I  will  not  wed  you  though  we  be  affianced,  and  I 
will  wed  no  man  upon  your  recommendation.  With  your  own 
affairs  I  pray  you  be  dilligently  active  and  concern  yourself  not 
with  mine  hereafter." 

264 


CAKDIGAN 

When  I  had  again  read  the  letter  I  examined  the  wax.  The 
paper  had  been  carelessly  folded  and  more  carelessly  sealed; 
and  I  called  to  Mount  and  the  Weasel,  pointing  out  that, 
though  the  letter  was  unsealed,  the  wax  itself  had  not  been 
broken. 

"  I  do  not  think,"  said  I,  "  that  this  letter  has  deliberately 
been  tampered  with.  This  is  only  carelessness." 

"  It  was  certainly  sealed  and  folded  in  haste,"  remarked 
the  Weasel,  poking  at  the  wax  with  his  forefinger. 

Mount  also  pretended  to  believe  that  negligence  or  haste 
accounted  for  the  open  letter,  and,  satisfied,  we  sat  down  to 
discuss  the  measures  to  be  taken  for  a  fortnight  flight. 

I  had  a  mind  to  follow  Silver  Heels  to  the  races,  trusting 
that  I  might  find  a  moment  to  warn  her  most  solemnly  not 
to  fail  us.  Mount  thought  the  idea  most  wise,  offering  to 
bear  me  company,  and  the  Weasel  agreed  to  remain  and  as 
sist  Kolfe  to  equip  and  furnish  our  post-chaise  with  the 
necessaries  for  a  long  journey. 

It  was  understood  between  us  that  Silver  Heels  and  Black 
Betty  were  to  ride  in  the  chaise,  and  I  with  them ;  that  Mount 
and  the  Weasel  would  sit  the  horses  as  postilions,  and  that 
Shemuel  should  ride  atop.  It  was  further  decided  that,  as 
the  northern  and  western  frontier  were  impassable  in  view 
of  the  border  war,  we  should  take  the  post-road  to  the  Vir 
ginia  border,  make  for  Williamsburg,  and  from  there  turn 
north  across  Maryland  and  the  Jerseys,  reaching  Johnstown 
through  New  York  and  Albany. 

I  gave  the  Weasel  money  to  purchase  powder  and  ball, 
which  we  all  lacked,  and  to  buy  for  me  a  silver  watch  and 
a  rifle  or  firelock  to  replace  the  loss  of  my  own.  Also,  I 
charged  him  to  purchase  pistols  for  me  and  for  Shemuel, 
with  flint  and  ball  for  the  same,  and  to  sharpen  our  knives 
and  hatchets  against  need. 

"  You  waste  breath,"  observed  Mount,  yawning.  "  The 
Weasel  never  neglects  to  file  his  claws  for  battle." 

"Very  well,"  said  I,  wincing;  "it  seems  that  of  us  all  I 
alone  know  nothing  of  my  own  affairs." 

"You  will  learn,"  said  the  Weasel,  kindly,  and  I  was 
obliged  to  swallow  their  well-meant  patronage  and  follow 
Mount  to  the  street. 

265 


CARDIGAN 

"If  I  had  my  way,"  said  I,  resentfully,  "I  would  take 
Miss  Warren  from  the  races  and  set  out  by  noon." 

"  If  I  had  my  way,"  observed  Mount,  "  I  should  not  try 
to  escape  to-night  at  all." 

"  Why  not  ?"  I  asked,  in  surprise. 

"  Because  of  that  unsealed  letter." 

"  But  we  agreed  it  was  accident !" 

"Ay,  we  agree,  but  mayhap  there  are  others  yet  to  dis 
agree." 

"  Nonsense !"  I  said. 

"  Doubtless,"  said  Mount,  with  the  faintest  trace  of  irony, 
enough  to  flavour  his  mild  smile  with  that  mockery  which 
hurts  the  pride  of  very  young  men. 

Offended,  I  strode  on  beside  him,  and  neither  he  nor  I  of 
fered  to  speak  again  until  Mount  suddenly  stopped  in  the 
middle  of  the  King's  Road  and  looked  back. 

"  What's  amiss  ?"  I  asked,  forgetting  my  sulks. 

"  Oh,  we  are  followed  again,"  said  Mount,  wearily. 

I  stared  about  but  could  see  nobody  who  appeared  to  be 
observing  us.  There  were  numbers  of  people  on  the  King's 
Road,  trudging  through  the  dust  as  were  we,  and  doubtless 
also  bound  for  the  races  on  Roanoke  Plain.  I  saw  no  vehicles 
or  horsemen:  the  quality  in  their  chairs  and  coaches  would 
go  by  the  fashionable  Boundary;  the  fox-hunting  horsemen 
met  at  the  "  Buckeye  Tavern,"  a  resort  for  British  officers  and 
gentlemen;  unpretentious  folk  must  foot  it  by  the  shortest 
route,  which  was  to  pass  the  fortress  by  the  King's  Road. 

"  Are  you  sure  we  are  followed  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Not  quite,"  said  Mount,  simply.  "  I  shall  know  anon. 
Trust  me  in  this,  lad,  and  take  pains  to  do  instantly  what  I 
do.  Perhaps  my  life  may  pay  for  this  day's  pleasure." 

"  I  will  take  care  to  imitate  you,"  said  I,  anxiously.  "  You 
know  how  deeply  in  your  debt  I  stand  confessed." 

"  Good  lad,"  he  said,  gravely;  "  I  do  not  doubt  you,  friend 
Michael.  As  for  any  debt,  your  courtesy  has  long  cancelled 
it." 

The  quaint  compliment  had  a  pretty  savour,  coming  from 
one  whose  world  was  not  my  own. 

We  were  now  passing  that  angle  of  the  fortified  works 
through  which  the  King's  Road  passes  between  two  block- 

266 


CARDIGAN 

housen.  The  sentries,  standing  in  the  shadow  of  the  stock 
ade,  watched  us  without  visible  interest,  turning  their  idle 
heads  to  scan  the  next  comer,  and  stare  impudently  if  it 
were  some  petticoat. 

So,  unquestioned,  we  passed  out  into  the  country,  where  a 
few  heavily  stockaded  farms  flanked  the  road,  always  built 
on  heights,  and  always  free  from  trees  or  any  cover  that 
might  shelter  an  attacking  enemy.  Beyond  these  farms  the 
road  became  a  turnpike,  and  we  stopped  at  the  toll-gate  to 
pay  tuppence  to  the  keeper's  wife,  who  sat  nursing  a  baby, 
one  hand  on  a  rifle,  which  she  never  let  go  until  the  even 
ing  brought  her  husband  to  keep  his  perilous  vigil  there  all 
night. 

"  No,"  she  said,  listlessly,  "  no  Indians  have  troubled  us. 
Yet,  God  knows  I  sleep  not  while  my  man  is  out  here  in  the 
night,  though  they  send  a  patrol  from  the  fortress  every 
hour." 

Mount  earnestly  advised  her  to  give  up  the  toll-gate  until 
the  border  had  quieted ;  but  she  only  stared,  saying,  "  How, 
then,  are  we  to  live?"  And  we  passed  on  in  silence,  side  by 
side. 

Beyond  the  toll-gate  a  broad  road  curved  out  from  the  turn 
pike,  running  south,  and  Mount  pointed  it  out  as  the  road 
we  were  to  travel  that  night. 

"  It  crosses  the  Virginia  border  by  that  blue  hill  yonder," 
he  said,  then  suddenly  jerked  his  head  over  his  shoulder. 

"I  think  I  am  right;  I  think  I  know  the  jade,"  he  said, 
calmly. 

"  Is  it  a  woman  who  follows  us  ?"  I  asked,  amazed. 

"  Ay,  a  bit  of  a  lass,  maybe  eighteen  or  thereabouts." 

"You  know  her?" 

"  And  she  me,"  said  Mount,  grimly.  "  Harkee,  friend 
Michael,  if  you  must  needs  know  the  truth,  her  father  is — 
Gad !  I  can  scarce  say  it  to  you,  but — well — her  father  is  what 
they  call  a  thief -taker." 

"  What  has  that  to  do  with  us  ?"  I  asked. 

Mount  spoke  with  an  effort :  "  Because  I  have  stopped  some 
few  purse-proud  magistrates  upon  the  highway,  they  say 
evil  things  o'  me.  That  lass  behind  us  means  to  follow  me 
and  tell  her  lout  of  a  father  where  I  may  be  found." 

267 


CARDIGAN 

I  was  horrified,  and  he  saw  it  and  stopped  short  in  his 
tracks. 

"  You  are  right,"  he  said,  simply ;  "  a  gentleman  cannot  be 
found  in  such  company.  Go  on  alone,  lad;  it  is  right,  and  I 
shall  bear  no  malice." 

"Jack!"  I  said,  hotly;  "do  you  believe  I  would  cry  quits 
now  ?  Damnation !  Come  on,  sir !  I  would  as  soon  take  the 
King's  highway  myself!" 

His  firm  mouth  relaxed  and  quivered  a  little ;  he  hesitated, 
then  walked  forward  beside  me  with  a  touch  of  that  old 
swagger,  muttering  something  about  gentle  blood  and  what's 
bred  in  the  bone. 

"  It's  all  very  well,"  he  said ;  "  it's  all  very  well  for  some 
of  our  people  to  say  that  we  men  are  created  equal.  There's 
no  truth  in  it.  A  broodhound  never  cast  whippets,  let  them 
say  what  they  will !" 

We  were  now  in  sight  of  the  flag-covered  pavilion  on 
Roanoke  Plain,  and  on  either  side  of  us  the  road  was  lined 
with  those  drinking-booths  and  peddler-stands  and  cheap- 
jack  tents  which  had  pitched  camps  here  for  the  day  rather 
than  pay  the  tax  required  to  sell  their  wares  within  the  rac 
ing-grounds. 

Around  them  the  townspeople  clustered,  some  munching 
gingerbread  and  pies,  some  watching  the  gilded  wheel  of  fort 
une  spin  their  pennies  into  another  man's  pockets,  some  pay 
ing  for  a  peep  into  a  dark  shed  where  doubtless  wonders  were 
to  be  seen  for  a  penny.  Ragged  children  sold  colours  and 
cards  for  the  races;  peddlers  assailed  our  ears  at  every  step; 
fortune-tellers  followed  us,  predicting  unexpected  blessings, 
which  turned  to  curses  when  we  passed  along  unheeding;  ac 
robats,  tumblers,  jugglers,  strong  men,  and  merry-andrews 
hailed  us  as  their  proper  prey.  And,  in  sooth,  had  it  not  been 
for  the  sickening  knowledge  of  Mount's  peril,  I  should  have 
found  keen  pleasure  in  spending  all  I  had,  to  see  everybody 
and  everything  at  this  show;  for  I  do  dearly  love  strange 
sights,  and  in  Johnstown  I  have  always  viewed  them  all,  with 
Silver  Heels  and  Esk  and  Peter,  when  the  season  of  racing 
brought  these  gay  folk  to  our  town. 

But  now  I  had  no  stomach  for  pleasure,  nor  had  Mount, 
for  he  scarcely  glanced  at  the  booths  as  we  passed,  though 

208 


CAKDIGAN 

there  was  ale  there,  and  sweet  Virginia  wines,  which  drew  the 
very  honey-bees  themselves. 

Suddenly  Mount  said,  "  This  will  not  do ;  I  have  been 
hunted  long  enough !" 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Hunt  in  my  turn,"  he  said,  grimly* 

"Hunt— what?" 

"  The  lass  who  hunts  me.  Follow,  lad.  On  your  life,  do 
as  I  do.  Now,  then!  Gay!  Gay!  Euffle  it,  lad!  Cut  a 
swagger,  cock  your  cap,  and  woe  to  the  maid  who  is  beguiled 
by  us!" 

The  change  in  him  was  amazing;  his  airs,  his  patronage, 
his  chaff,  his  lightening  wit! — it  was  the  old  Mount  again, 
quaffing  a  great  cup  of  ale,  pledging  every  pretty  face  that 
passed,  hammering  his  pewter  to  emphasize  his  words,  talk 
ing  with  all  who  would  answer  him;  glorious  in  his  self-es 
teem,  amusing  in  his  folly,  a  dandy,  a  ruffler,  a  careless,  wiiie- 
bibbing,  wench-bussing  coureur-de-bois,  and  king  of  them  all 
without  an  effort. 

Peddler  and  gypsy  were  no  match  for  him;  his  banter 
silenced  the  most  garrulous,  his  teasing  pleased  the  wenches, 
his  gay  gallantries  made  many  a  girl  look  back  at  him,  and 
many  a  smile  was  returned  to  him  with  delicate  surplus  of 
interest. 

"  Which  is  the  maid  ?"  I  asked,  under  my  breath. 

"Yonder,  stopping  to  stare  at  gingerbread  as  though  she 
had  never  beheld  such  a  sweet  before.  Now  she  turns ;  mark ! 
It  is  she  with  the  pink  print  and  chip  hat  on  her  hair,  tied 
with  rose  ribbons  under  the  chin." 

"  I  see  her,"  said  I. 

She  was  a  healthy,  red-cheeked,  blue-eyed  girl,  with  lips  a 
trifle  over-full  and  bosom  to  match  withal.  She  appeared  un 
easy  and  uncertain,  watching  Mount  when  he  raised  a  laugh, 
and  laughing  herself  as  excuse,  though  her  mirth  appeared 
to  me  uneasy,  now  that  I  understood  her  purpose. 

She  had  been  edging  nearer,  and  now  stood  close  to  us,  at 
the  entrance  to  an  arbour  wherein  were  set  benches  in  little 
corners,  hidden  from  prying  eyes  by  strips  of  painted  cloth. 

"  Will  no  maid  pity  me !"  exclaimed  Mount.  "  I  am  far, 
far  too  young  to  drink  my  wine  alone  in  yonder  arbour !" 

269 


CARDIGAN 

"  I  have  not  been  invited,"  cried  a  saucy  wench,  laughing 
at  us  over  the  shoulder  of  her  companion,  who  backed  away, 
half  laughing,  half  frightened. 

"  God  helps  those  who  help  themselves,"  said  Mount,  turn 
ing  to  find  her  who  had  followed  him  close  to  his  elbow. 

He  smiled  in  her  face  and  made  her  a  very  slow  and  very 
low  bow,  drawing  a  furrow  through  the  dust  with  the  fluffy 
tail  on  his  coon-skin  cap. 

"  If  I  knew  your  name,"  he  said,  "  I  might  die  contented. 
Otherwise  I  shall  content  myself  with  a  life  of  ignorance." 

She  seemed  startled  and  abashed,  fingering  her  gown  and 
looking  at  her  shoe-buckles,  while  Mount  bent  beside  her  to 
whisper  and  smile  and  swagger  until  he  entreated  her  to 
taste  a  glass  of  currant  wine  with  us  in  the  arbour. 

I  do  not  know  to  this  day  why  she  consented.  Perhaps  she 
thought  to  confirm  her  suspicions  and  entrap  some  admission 
from  Mount;  perhaps,  in  the  light  of  later  events,  her  pur 
pose  was  very  different.  However,  we  three  sat  in  the  arbour 
behind  our  screens  of  painted  cloth,  and  Mount  did  set  such  a 
pace  for  us  that  ere  I  was  aware  there  remained  not  a  drop 
of  currant  in  the  decanter,  no  more  cakes  on  the  plate,  and 
he  had  his  arm  around  the  silly  maid. 

Intensely  embarrassed  and  ill  at  ease  with  this  pot-house 
gallantry,  which  was  ever  offensive  to  my  tastes,  I  regarded 
them  sideways  in  silence,  impatient  for  Mount  to  end  it  all. 

The  end  had  already  begun ;  Mount  rose  lightly  to  his  feet 
and  drew  the  girl  with  him,  turning  her  quietly  by  the 
shoulders  and  looking  straight  into  her  eyes. 

"  Why  do  you  follow  me  ?"  he  asked,  coolly. 

The  colour  left  her  face;  her  eyes  flew  wide  open  with 
fright. 

"  I  shall  not  hurt  you,  little  fool,"  he  said ;  "  I  had  rather 
your  father,  the  thief-taker,  took  me,  than  harm  you.  Yes,  I 
am  that  same  Jack  Mount.  You  are  poor ;  they  will  pay  you 
for  compassing  my  arrest.  Come,  shall  we  seek  your  father, 
Billy  Bishop,  the  taker  of  thieves  ?" 

He  drew  her  towards  the  gate,  but  she  fell  a-whimper- 
ing  and  caught  his  arm,  hiding  her  face  in  his  buckskin 
sleeve. 

Disgusted,  I  waited  a  moment,  then  turned  my  back  and 

270 


CARDIGAN 

walked  out  into  the  sunshine,  where  I  paced  to  and  fro,  until 
at  last  Mount  joined  me,  wearing  a  scowl. 

As  we  turned  away  together  I  glanced  into  the  arbour  and 
saw  our  lass  of  the  ribbons  still  sitting  at  the  table  with  her 
head  buried  in  her  arms  and  her  pink  shell-hat  on  the  grass. 

As  for  Mount,  he  said  nothing  except  that,  though  he  no 
longer  feared  the  girl,  he  meant,  hereafter,  to  trust  to  his 
heels  in  similar  situations. 

"  It  might  be  less  irksome,"  said  I,  curling  my  lip. 

"  Ay ;  yet  she  has  a  pretty  face,  and  a  plump  neck,  too." 

"  The  daughter  of  a  thief -taker !"  I  added,  contemptuously. 

"  Pooh !"  said  he.  "  She  has  thirty  sound  teeth  and  ten 
fingers ;  the  Queen  of  Spain  has  no  more." 


CHAPTER   XVI 

AS  we  came  to  the  high  stockade  which  surrounded  the 
Roanoke  Racing  Plain,  a  bell  struck  somewhere  inside; 
there  was  a  moment's  silence,  then  a  roar,  "They're  off!" 
and  the  confused  shouting  of  a  crowd :  "  Greensleeves  leads ! 
Heather-Bee!  Heather-Bee!"  which  suddenly  died  out, 
ceased,  then  swelled  into  a  sharp  yell :  "  Orange  and  Black ! 
Orange  wins!  Baltimore!  Baltimore!  Baltimore!  No! 
No!  The  Jersey  colt!  The  Jersey  colt!  Crimson!  Crim 
son  !"  A  hush ;  the  dull,  double  thud  of  galloping ;  a  scram 
ble,  a  rush,  and  a  hurricane  of  wild  cheers :  "  Heather-Bee ! 
Heather-Bee!  Good  Greensleeves!  Hi — yi — yi!  Hooray!" 

"  I  would  I  had  a  sovereign  laid  on  this  same  Heather- 
Bee,"  said  Mount,  mechanically  fumbling  in  his  empty 
pockets. 

I  glanced  at  him  in  surprise.  Had  the  novelty  of  our 
present  peril  already  grown  so  stale  that  the  shouting  of  a 
rabble  over  a  winning  horse  could  blot  it  out  ? 

He  observed  my  disapproval  and  took  his  hands  from  his 
pocket-flaps,  muttering  something  about  a  passion  for  bet 
ting;  and  I  paid  the  gate-keepers  the  fee  they  demanded  for 
us  both,  which  included  a  card  giving  us  entry  to  the  pad 
dock. 

When  I  entered  I  expected  to  see  a  "  sweet  and  delight 
some  plain,"  as  the  public  crier  had  advertised  so  loudly  with 
his  horn,  but  truly  I  was  not  prepared  for  the  beauty  which 
was  now  revealed.  Bowered  in  trees  the  lovely  pale  green 
meadow  lay,  all  starred  with  buttercups  and  cut  by  the 
bronzed  oval  of  the  course.  Pavilion  and  field  glowed  in  the 
colours  of  fluttering  gowns;  white  and  scarlet  and  green 
marked  the  line  where  half  a  dozen  mounted  jockeys  walked 
their  lean  horses  under  the  starter's  tower.  The  sun  blazed 
down,  gilding  the  chestnut  necks  of  the  horses;  a  cool  breeze 

272 


CAKDIGAN 

bellied  the  bright  sleeves  of  the  jockeys,  and  blew  the  petti 
coats  and  ribbons  till  they  napped  like  rainbow  flags. 

Mount  was  nudging  me,  sulkily  demanding  to  be  informed 
where  bets  were  placed,  and  adding  that  he  knew  a  horse  as 
well  as  the  next  man.  However,  when  he  proposed  that  I 
allow  him  to  double  my  capital  for  me,  I  flatly  refused,  and 
reproached  him  for  wishing  to  risk  anything  now. 

"  Well,  then,"  he  muttered,  "  lay  a  sovereign  yourself  for 
luck;"  but  I  paid  no  attention,  and  fixed  my  eyes  on  the 
pavilion  to  search  it  through  and  through  for  Silver  Pleels. 

The  longer  I  searched  the  more  hopeless  I  felt  my  task  to 
be ;  I  could  see  a  score  of  maids  in  that  vast  bouquet,  any  one 
of  which  might  have  been  Silver  Heels,  but  was  not. 

T  then  sought  to  discover  Lady  Shelton,  a  large,  sluggish 
lady  whom  I  had  noticed  at  Johnstown — not  attracted  by 
her  beauty,  but  to  observe  her  how  she  did  eat  a  barrel  of 
oysters  in  pickle,  when  visiting  our  guard-house  with  her 
kinsman,  Colonel  Guy  Johnson. 

I  could  not  find  her,  though  there  were  many  ladies  in 
the  pavilion  who  appeared  to  resemble  her  in  largeness  and 
girth,  and  in  fatness  of  hand  and  foot. 

With  my  arm  on  Mount's,  who  had  fallen  a-pouting,  I 
paced  the  sward,  searching  the  pavilion  through  and  through, 
unmindful  of  the  battery  of  bright  eyes  which  swept  and 
raked  us  with  indolent  contempt.  Where  was  Silver  Heels? 
Ay,  where  in  the  devil's  name  had  the  little  baggage  hid  her 
self?  Many  ladies  and  their  consorts  in  the  pavilion  were 
rising  and  passing  under  a  yellow  canopy  to  the  right,  where 
there  appeared  to  be  a  luncheon  spread  on  tables;  and  I  did 
see  and  smell  large  bowls  of  sweetened  punch,  Mount  smell 
ing  the  same  and  thoughtfully  clacking  his  tongue. 

"  The  quality,"  he  observed,  "  have  punch  and  French 
wines.  Yet  I  dare  wager  a  pocketful  o'  sixpences  that  they 
have  not  my  depth,  and  God  knows  I  would  cheerfully  prove 
it." 

"  Nobody  is  like  to  challenge  you,"  I  said,  coldly.  "  Come, 
we  must  find  my  cousin,  Miss  Warren,  or  our  journey  here 
fails." 

The  fox-hunting  gentry  in  pink  were  coming  across  the 
field  in  a  body,  spurs  glistening  and  curly  horns  striking  fire 
8  273 


CARDIGAN 

in  the  sunshine.  As  they  passed  us,  clink!  clink!  over  the 
turf,  a  strangely  familiar  eye  met  mine  and  held  it — the  puz 
zled  eye  of  a  young  man,  dressed  in  red  coat  and  tops  and 
wearing  a  black  velvet  cap.  Where  had  I  seen  him  before? 
He,  too,  appeared  perplexed,  and,  as  he  passed,  involuntarily 
touched  the  peak  of  his  cap  with  his  hunting-whip.  Sud 
denly  I  knew  him,  and  at  the  same  moment  he  left  the  com 
pany  and  came  hastily  up  to  me,  offering  his  hand.  The  fox- 
hunter  was  my  old  acquaintance,  Mr.  Bevan,  the  dragoon,  and 
he  had  actually  recognized  me  under  my  sunburn  and  buck 
skins.  Rivals  never  forget. 

However,  there  was  no  mistaking  his  cordiality,  and  I 
should  have  been  an  oaf  and  a  churl  not  to  have  met  him 
fairly  by  the  hand  he  offered. 

"Sans  arriere  pensee,  sans  rancune!"  he  said,  heartily,  the 
French  not  pleasing  me;  but  I  returned  his  straightforward 
clasp  and  told  him  I  bore  no  more  malice  than  did  he. 

"  I  heard  you  speak  in  '  Governor's  Hall,' "  he  said,  and  I 
saw  his  eyes  twinkle,  though  his  mouth  betrayed  no  mirth,  so 
I  only  bowed  seriously  and  told  him  I  was  honoured  by  his 
presence. 

"  Was  not  that  gentleman  Patrick  Henry — the  one  in  black 
who  led  the  poor  savage  out  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Doubtless  you  know  Patrick  Henry  better  than  I  do,"  I 
answered,  cautiously. 

He  laughed  outright. 

"  Pray,  believe  me,  Mr.  Cardigan,  I  am  not  prying.  It  is 
rumoured  that  Patrick  Henry  has  been  at  some  rebel  tavern 
in  town.  A  few  thought  they  recognized  him  in  '  Governor's 
Hall,'  and  many  claim  that  he  wrote  that  great  speech  for 
Logan." 

"  If  he  did  he  is  the  greatest  orator  of  our  times,"  I  said. 

"Do  you  believe  he  did?" 

"  No,"  said  I,  bluntly. 

He  looked  at  me  with  curious,  friendly  eyes. 

"You  have  become  famous,  Mr.  Cardigan,  since  we  last 
met." 

"You  would  say  ' notorious,'"  I  rejoined,  smiling. 

He  protested  vigorously : 

"NoLnoJ.  I  understand  you  are.  not  of  our  party,  but, 

274 


CARDIGAN 

believe  me,  were  I  a — a — patriot,  as  they  say,  I  should  be 
proud  to  hear  a  comrade  utter  the  words  you  uttered  in  '  Gov 
ernor's  Hall' !" 

"  Did  I  say  I  was  a  rebel  ?"  I  asked,  laughing. 

"  Well,"  he  rejoined,  "  if  that  speech  did  not  commit  you, 
we  are  but  a  dull  company  here  in  Pittsburg." 

He  glanced  after  his  comrades,  who  were  now  entering  the 
canopied  space  where  refreshments  lay  piled  between  the  bot 
tles  and  punch-bowls ;  and  he  straightway  invited  me,  turning 
with  a  bow  to  include  Jack  Mount,  whom  I  had  not  dared 
present  under  his  proper  name. 

Mount  began  to  accept  with  a  nourish,  but  I  cut  him  short 
with  excuses,  which  Mr.  Bevan  accepted  politely,  expressing 
his  regret.  Then  again  he  offered  me  his  hand  so  frankly 
that  I  drew  him  aside,  and  begged  his  indulgence  and  forget- 
fulness  for  my  boorish  behaviour  at  Johnson  Hall. 

"  The  fault  was  mine,"  he  said,  instantly ;  "  I  sneered  at 
your  militia  and  deserved  your  rebuke.  Had  I  not  deserved 
it,  I  should  have  called  you  out,  Mr.  Cardigan." 

" You  conducted  properly,"  said  I ;  "on  the  contrary,  I 
must  blush  for  my  churlishness  when  you  favoured  my  hilt 
with  a  ribbon." 

His  friendly  eyes  grew  grave,  and  he  began  bending  his 
hunting-whip  into  a  bow,  thoughtfully  studying  the  butter 
cups  at  his  feet. 

After  a  moment  he  looked  up,  saying,  "  Do  you  know  that 
this  morning  the  banns  were  published  for  the  wedding  of 
Lord  Dunmore  and  your  kinswoman,  Miss  Warren  ?" 

So,  after  all,  and  in  spite  of  my  letter,  Dunmore  had  done 
this  shameful  thing!  I  think  my  scowling  face  gave  Bevan 
his  answer,  for  he  laid  his  hand  on  my  arm  and  looked  at 
me  earnestly. 

"  It  is  no  shame,"  he  said,  "  for  me  to  tell  you  that  Miss 
Warren  has  refused  me.  How  can  a  heart  be  humbled  which 
has  loved  such  a  woman  ?" 

"  She  is  not  a  woman  yet,"  I  said,  harshly ;  "  she  is  a  child, 
and  a  wilful  one  at  that !  Damnation !  sir,  it  maddens  me  to 
see  men  after  her,  and  she  but  fifteen !" 

"  Miss  Warren  celebrated  her  sixteenth  birthday  with  a  din 
ner  at  Lady  Shelton's  a  week  since,"  said  Bevan,  colouring  up^ 

275 


CARDIGAN 

I  thought  a  moment,  frowning  and  counting  on  my  fingers. 
Yes,  that  was  true;  Silver  Heels  was  sixteen  now.  But  that 
only  increased  my  irritation,  for  the  danger  suddenly  as 
sumed  menacing  proportions,  which  must  increase  every  mo 
ment  now  that  the  barriers  of  childhood  no  longer  barred  the 
men  who  hunted  her. 

"  I  have  told  you  this,"  said  Bevan,  stiffly,  "  because  I  be 
lieved  you  were  in  love  with  Miss  Warren,  and  must  suffer 
great  pain  to  learn  of  her  betrothal  to  Lord  Dunmore." 

"  And — what  then,  sir  ?"  I  asked,  angry  and  perplexed. 

"  This,  Mr.  Cardigan !  That  my  own  ill  fortune  has  not 
left  me  less  devoted  to  her  happiness;  that  this  marriage  is 
a  monstrous  thing  and  will  one  day  drive  her  to  despair; 
that  I  do  most  earnestly  believe  that  Miss  Warren  loves  a 
man  more  worthy  of  her." 

"  What  man  ?"  I  demanded,  sharply. 

"  You  should  not  ask  me  that !"  he  retorted,  more  sharply 
still. 

"  But  I  do !  Confound  it,  I  know  from  her  own  lips  that 
she  dotes  on  some  conceited,  meddling  ass!  And  if  I  can 
but  lay  my  hand  on  his  collar — " 

Bevan  was  staring  at  me  in  such  frank  amazement  that  I 
bit  my  words  short. 

"  Did  Miss  Warren  confess  that  she  loved  ?"  he  asked. 

I  assented  in  silence. 

"A— a  fool?" 

I  nodded. 

Bevan  burst  into  a  bitter  laugh. 

"  Then  let  me  tell  you,  sir,  that  I  have  heard  her  praise 
this  same  meddling  fool  and  laud  his  every  word  as  Heaven's 
own  wisdom !  Ay,  sir,  and  boast  of  his  bravery  and  his  wit 
and  his  glorious  person  till  I  thought  this  fool  a  very  god 
from  Olympus,  and  marvelled  at  my  own  blindness  in  not 
earlier  perceiving  it." 

"  You  know  him  ?"  I  cried. 

"  Indeed,  he  is  now  well  known  in  Pittsburg  town,  Mr. 
Cardigan." 

"  But  you—" 

"  Yes,  I  know  him." 

After  a  moment's  silence  I  said,  "  Is  he  worthy  of  her?" 

276 


CARDIGAN 

"  What  man  is  ?"  he  answered,  quietly. 

"  Oh,  many  men ;  pardon,  but  you  are  in  love,  and  so  are 
blinded.  I  see  clearly.  I  know  my  cousin,  and  I  know  that 
she  is  a  wilful  maid  who  has  raised  the  devil  out  o'  bounds, 
and  is  ready  to  run  to  cover  now." 

Bevan  was  red  in  the  face. 

"  It  is  a  kinsman's  privilege  to  criticise,"  he  said. 

"A  kinsman's  duty!"  I  added.  "Were  I  not  jealous  for 
her  honour  and  happiness,  I  would  cry  Dunmore  merci!  and 
think  my  cousin  a  fortunate  maid!  Curse  him!  When  I 
think  of  that  man  I  can  scarce  look  at  my  hands  so  guiltless 
of  the  creature's  blood.  But  they  will  not  stay  clean  long  if 
he  pushes  me.  God  help  the  man  who  bars  our  way  north 
ward!" 

"  If  you  mean  to  take  her,"  said  Bevan,  in  a  low  voice,  "  I 
wish  you  godspeed.  But  how  can  you  pass  the  fort,  Mr. 
Cardigan?" 

"  Do  you  believe  Dunmore  would  detain  us  ?"  I  asked, 
blankly. 

"  I  know  he  would  if  he  heard  of  it  in  time." 

I  thought  a  moment,  then  laid  my  hand  on  Sevan's  shoul 
der,  and,  on  the  impulse,  told  him  what  our  plans  were.  He 
listened  in  silent  sympathy,  nodding  at  times,  turning  to 
glance  at  Mount,  who  sat  under  a  tree  chewing  grass-blades 
and  sniffing  at  the  distant  punch-bowls. 

When  I  had  told  him  all,  he  reflected,  slowly  switching  the 
sod  with  his  whip.  Presently  he  said :  "  I  am  glad  you  told 
me  this.  I  will  be  at  the  King's  Road  gate  to-night.  If  there 
is  trouble  with  the  sentries  I  will  vouch  for  you." 

His  quiet  generosity  touched  me  deeply,  and  I  told  him  so. 

"  Could  a  gentleman  do  less  ?"  he  asked,  gravely.  Then  a 
sudden  smile  lighted  his  eyes,  and  he  added :  "  She  will  never 
give  up  her  Olympian  god,  though  she  thought  to  fling  him 
away  for  his  indifference.  And,  Mr.  Cardigan,  though  this 
man  she  loves  is  truly  all  she  claims,  he  is,  as  she  told  you, 
the  greatest  fool  on  earth!" 

"  Then  he  can  never  have  her !"  I  said,  contemptuously. 

"  Ah — wait !"  he  replied,  with  a  curiously  sad  smile.  "  A 
fool  and  his  folly  are  soon  parted  when  in  the  company  of 
Miss  Warren." 

277 


CARDIGAN 

"You  believe  he  will  follow  her?  That's  what  she  said, 
too!"  I  exclaimed,  hotly. 

Again  he  burst  into  a  laugh  which  was  quite  free  from 
bitterness. 

"  Yes,  he  is  certain  to  follow  you,"  he  said.  "  Black  Care 
rides  behind  the  horseman,  but  this  man  will  stick  closer  than 
your  own  shadow." 

"  We'll  see,"  I  muttered. 

He  offered  me  his  hand,  pressing  mine  firmly. 

"  You  know  Miss  Warren  is  here  ?"  he  asked,  cautiously. 

"  I  am  seeking  her,"  said  I. 

"  She  walked  to  the  hill,  yonder,  with  Lady  Shelton,  after 
the  last  race,"  he  said,  pointing  with  his  whip  to  a  wooded 
knoll  which  I  could  just  see  rising  behind  the  paddocks. 

"  Dunmore  is  searching  everywhere  for  her,"  he  added, 
significantly. 

So  we  parted,  I  warm  with  gratitude,  he  quietly  cordial, 
yet  still  wearing  that  singular  smile  which  I  could  not  quite 
understand. 

As  for  pity,  I  had  none  for  him,  nor  did  I  believe  his  sor 
row  could  be  very  profound  over  his  dismissal  by  Silver 
Heels.  But  then  I  knew  nothing  of  such  matters,  having 
never  been  in  love.  As  for  the  gentleman-god  who  had 
turned  Silver  Heels's  silly  head,  I  meant  to  deal  with  him 
the  instant  he  made  his  appearance. 

Mount,  tired  of  cropping  the  herbage  under  his  tree,  re 
joined  me  fretfully,  demanding  to  know  why  I  had  not  ac 
cepted  the  invitation  to  refreshment;  and  I  told  him  quite 
plainly  that  I  had  no  intention  to  further  test  his  sobriety, 
in  view  of  the  work  we  had  before  us. 

Together  we  entered  the  paddock,  where  hostlers  and 
jockeys  were  grooming  the  beautiful,  slender  horses,  and 
though  I  longed  to  linger,  I  dared  not  stay  longer  than  to 
hug  one  splendid  mare  and  whisper  in  her  listening,  silky 
ears  that  she  was  a  beauty  without  peer. 

The  boy  who  was  washing  her  sourly  warned  me  off,  doubt 
less  fearing  the  touch  of  a  stranger,  lest  he  prove  one  of  those 
miscreants  who  harm  horses.  So  I  passed  on,  nodding  good 
bye  to  the  lovely  inare,  Heather-Bee,  as  she  was  called  by  the 
name  stitched  on  her  blanket. 

278 


CARDIGAN 

In  the  rear  of  the  paddock  a  path  led  through  a  gate  and 
up  the  wooded  knoll.  I  looked  around  for  Mount;  he  was 
plaintively  helping  himself  to  a  cup  of  water  from  the  horse- 
trough  spring,  so  I  waited.  And,  as  I  stood  there,  down  the 
path  came  two  fat  people,  a  lady  and  her  escort,  picking  their 
way  with  all  the  majesty  of  elephants.  I  knew  Lady  Shelton 
at  once;  none  could  mistake  that  faded  and  moon-like  face 
with  the  little  selfish  under-lip  and  the  folded  creases  beside 
a  mouth  which  was  made  only  for  feeding.  None  could  mis 
take  those  little  fat  feet,  trotting  under  the  daintily  raised 
petticoat. 

She  scarcely  deigned  to  glance  at  me;  the  gentleman  be 
side  her  paid  me  no  attention;  and  I  was  thankful  enough 
that  Lady  Shelton  had  not  recognized  me. 

They  were  waddling  down  the  paddock  some  distance  away 
when  Mount  rejoined  me,  complaining  of  the  cheerless 
draught  which  my  obstinacy  had  compelled  him  to  swallow, 
and  we  passed  the  gate  and  ascended  the  pretty  slope. 

We  were,  perhaps,  half-way  up  the  slope,  when  I  heard  a 
footstep  behind  us  and  glanced  back.  What  was  my  astonish 
ment  to  behold  the  Weasel  trotting  along  at  our  heels. 

"  Where  on  earth  did  you  come  from  ?"  I  asked. 

"  From  the  '  Virginia  Arms/  "  he  replied,  seriously.  "  I 
like  to  be  near  Jack." 

Mount,  in  pleased  surprise,  had  already  laid  his  great  paw 
on  the  Weasel's  shoulder.  Now  he  smiled  at  the  little  care 
worn  man  with  wonderful  tenderness.  It  was  strange,  the 
affection  between  these  two  roaming  men,  the  naive  fidelity 
of  the  Weasel,  the  fostering  care  of  the  younger  giant,  whose 
attitude  was  sometimes  fatherly,  sometimes  filial. 

The  Weasel  looked  back  at  the  course  where,  already,  the 
bell  was  striking  to  warn  the  jockeys,  and  where,  one  after 
another,  the  horses  cantered  out  to  the  judges'  stand  and 
stood  restively,  or  backed  and  pirouetted  and  reared  in  the 
sunshine. 

"  Have  you  ever  before  seen  a  race  ?"  I  asked. 

"  I  ?  A  race  ?"  He  waved  his  hand  with  a  peculiarly  sad 
gesture.  "Many  a  noble  horse  has  carried  my  colours  on 
Cambridge  Downs,"  he  said,  simply.  "  Many  a  plate  have 
my  youngsters  won  for  me,  Mr.  Cardigan." 

279 


CARDIGAN 

He  looked  out  over  the  green  meadow,  folding  his  small, 
dry  hands  meekly. 

"  Lord,  Lord,"  he  murmured,  "  the  world  has  changed  since 
then !  The  world  has  changed !" 

"  Friends  have  not,"  murmured  Mount. 

"  No,  no,  you  are  quite  right,  Jack,"  said  Renard,  hastily. 

"  Then  who  the  devil  cares  how  the  world  may  change," 
snapped  Mount.  "  Come,  Cade,  old  friend,  sit  you  here  in 
the  sweet  grass  and  you  and  I  will  wager  straws  on  the 
jockeys'  colours  yonder,  while  our  young  gentleman  here 
lightly  goes  a-courting!" 

I  did  not  choose  to  notice  Mount's  remark,  knowing  that 
he  meant  no  offence,  so  I  left  the  pair  sitting  on  the  sod  and 
climbed  the  remaining  half  of  the  slope  alone. 

Now,  no  sooner  had  I  reached  the  top  of  the  knoll  than  I 
perceived  Silver  Heels,  sitting  upon  a  rock,  reading  a  letter; 
and  when  I  drew  near,  my  moccasins  making  no  sound,  I 
could  not  help  but  see  that  it  was  my  letter  she  perused 
so  diligently.  It  gratified  me  to  observe  that  she  appar 
ently  valued  the  instructions  in  my  letter,  and  I  trusted 
she  intended  to  profit  by  them,  for  Heaven  knew  she  need 
ed  admonition  and  the  judicious  counsel  of  a  mature  in 
tellect. 

"  Silver  Heels,"  I  began,  kindly. 

She  started,  then  crushed  the  letter  to  a  ball,  thrusting  it 
into  her  bosom. 

"  Oh,  Michael,  you  are  insufferable !"  she  cried. 

"  What !"  I  exclaimed,  astonished. 

Her  eyes  filled  and  she  sprang  up. 

"  I  know  not  whether  to  laugh  or  cry,  so  vexed  am  I !"  she 
stammered,  and  called  me  booby  and  Paul  Pry,  drying  her 
eyes  the  while  her  tongue  upbraided  me. 

"  I  am  not  spying,"  said  I,  hotly ;  "  don't  pretend  that 
scrawl  was  a  love-letter,  for  I  know  it  to  be  my  own !" 

"  Ah — you  did  come  spying!"  she  flashed  out,  stamping  her 
foot  furiously. 

"  Lord !  was  there  ever  such  a  spiteful  maid !"  I  cried.  "  I 
came  here  to  have  a  word  with  you  concerning  our  journey 
this  night.  I  care  not  a  penny  whistle  for  your  love-letters. 
Can  you  not  understand  that?" 

280 


CARDIGAN 

She  turned  somewhat  pale  and  stood  still.  Her  under-lip 
quivered  between  her  teeth. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  slowly,  "  I  understand." 

I  had  not  meant  to  speak  harshly,  and  I  told  her  so.  She 
nodded,  scarcely  listening.  Then  I  spoke  of  our  coming  jour 
ney,  which,  though  it  galled  me  to  say  so,  I  explained  to  her 
was  nothing  less  than  a  flight. 

She  acquiesced,  saying  she  was  ready,  and  that  she  only 
longed  to  leave  the  town  forever.  She  said  that  she  had 
known  nothing  but  unhappiiiess  here,  and  that  the  memory 
of  it  would  always  be  abhorrent,  which  surprised  me,  as  I 
had  understood  that  the  gentleman-god  dwelt  hereabouts. 
However,  I  said  nothing  to  disturb  her  or  endanger  her  do 
cility,  and  we  discussed  our  plans  reasonably  and  with  per 
fect  calmness. 

I  was  pleased  to  see  that  she  already  appeared  to  be  in 
better  health.  Rouge  and  patch  had  disappeared ;  her  colour 
was  better;  her  eyes  brighter;  her  lips  redder.  Also, her  gown 
was  simpler  and  more  pleasing  to  me,  and  her  hair  bore  no  ex 
travagant  towers,  but  was  sweetly  puffed  and  rolled  from  her 
white  forehead.  Still,  her  arms  were  more  frail  than  I  liked 
to  see,  and  there  rested  a  faint  bluish  shadow  under  each  eye. 

"  How  came  you  to  find  me  out,  here  in  my  retreat  ?"  she 
asked,  slowly. 

"  Mr.  Bevan  told  me,"  I  replied,  watching  her. 

"  Poor  Mr.  Bevan,"  she  murmured ;  "  how  jealous  you  were 
of  him." 

"  He  is  a  splendid  fellow,"  I  declared,  much  ashamed. 

"  So  you  are  already  friends,"  she  observed,  in  a  musing 
way. 

"  I  trust  so,"  I  replied,  fervently. 

"  Is  it  not  sudden  ?"  she  asked. 

But  I  would  not  commit  myself. 

"  Silver  Heels,"  I  said,  "  does  it  not  seem  good  to  be  to 
gether  again  here  in  the  sunshine  ?" 

"  Ah,  yes !"  she  cried,  impetuously,  then  stopped. 

Doubtless  she  was  thinking  of  the  gentleman-god. 

I  sat  down  on  the  grass  beside  her  and  began  pulling  but 
tercups.  One  I  held  under  her  white  chin  to  see  if  she  still 
loved  butter. 

281 


CARDIGAN 

"I  love  all  that  I  ever  loved,"  she  said,  leaning  forward 
over  her  knees  to  pluck  a  tiny  blue  bud  in  the  grass. 

"  Do  you  remember  that  day  you  bit  me  in  the  school 
room  ?"  I  asked,  with  youthful  brutality. 

The  crimson  flooded  her  temples.  She  involuntarily 
glanced  at  my  left  hand;  the  scar  was  still  there,  and  she 
covered  her  eyes  tightly  with  her  hands. 

"Oh!  Oh!  Oh!"  she  murmured,  in  horror.  "What  a 
savage  I  was !  No  wonder  you  hated  me — " 

"  Only  at  moments,"  I  said,  magnanimously ;  "  I  always 
liked  you,  Silver  Heels." 

Presently  she  drew  her  hands  from  her  eyes  and  touched 
her  flushed  cheeks  with  the  blue  blossom  thoughtfully. 

"  Michael,"  she  said,  "  I — I  never  told  you,  but  I  was 
very  glad  when  you  came  to  explain  to  me  that  night  in  the 
pantry." 

"  Well,"  said  I,  stiffly,  "  you  certainly  concealed  your  pleas 
ure.  Lord,  child,  how  you  scored  me !" 

"  I  know  it,"  she  muttered,  in  quick  vexation ;  "  I  was  a 
perfect  fool.  You  see,  I — I  was  hurt  so  deeply  that  it  fright 
ened  me — " 

"  You  ought  to  have  known  that  I  meant  nothing,"  said  I. 
"Mrs.  Hamilton  tormented  me  till  I — I — well,  whatever  I 
did  was  harmless.  Anyway,  it  was  done  because  I  thought  I 
loved  you — I  mean  like  a  lover,  you  know — " 

"  I  know,"  said  Silver  Heels. 

"  After  that,"  said  I,  smiling,  "  I  knew  my  own  mind." 

"  And  I  knew  mine,"  said  Silver  Heels. 

"  And  now  I  know  the  difference  between  hurt  vanity  and 
love,"  I  added,  complacently. 

"  I,  too,"  said  Silver  Heels. 

"  You  can't  know  such  things ;  you  are  scarcely  sixteen,"  I 
insisted. 

"  My  mother  was  wedded  at  sixteen ;  she  wedded  for  love." 

After  a  silence  I  asked  her  how  she  knew  that,  as  she  had 
never  seen  her  mother. 

"  Sir  Peter  Warren  has  told  me  in  his  letters,"  she  said, 
simply.  "  Besides,  you  are  wrong  when  you  say  I  never  saw 
my  mother.  I  did,  but  I  was  too  young  to  remember.  She 
died  when  I  was  a  year  old." 

282 


CARDIGAN 

"  But  you  never  saw  your  father,"  I  said. 

"  Oh  no.     He  was  killed  at  sea  by  the  French." 

That  was  news  to  me,  although  I  had  always  been  aware 
that  he  had  died  at  sea  on  board  his  Majesty's  ship  Leda,  one 
of  Sir  Peter's  squadron. 

"  Who  told  you  he  was  killed  by  the  French  ?"  I  asked, 
soberly. 

"  Sir  Peter.  A  few  days  after  you  left  Johnstown  I  re 
ceived  a  packet  from  Sir  Peter.  It  came  on  a  war-ship 
which  put  in  at  New  York,  and  the  express  brought  it.  Sir 
Peter  also  wrote  to  Sir  William.  1  don't  know  what  he  said. 
Sir  William  was  very  silent  with  me  after  that,  but  just 
before  I  left  with  Lady  Shelton  to  come  here,  he  had  a  long- 
talk  with  me — " 

She  stopped  abruptly. 

"Well?"  I  asked. 

Silver  Heels  twirled  the  blue  bud  in  her  fingers. 

"  He  said — to — to  tell  you  if  I  saw  you  in  Pittsburg — to — 
to — I  mean  that  I  was  to  say  to  you  that  Sir  William  had 
changed  his  mind — " 

"  About  what  ?"  I  demanded,  irritably. 

"  Our  betrothal." 

"Our  betrothal?" 

"  Yes.    I  am  not  to  wed  you." 

"Of  course  not,"  I  said,  rather  blankly;  "but  I  thought 
Sir  William  desired  it.  He  said  that  he  did.  He  said  it 
to  me !" 

"  He  no  longer  wishes  it,"  said  Silver  Heels. 

"Why?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  answered,  faintly. 

I  was  hurt. 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  I  observed,  resentfully,  "  doubtless  Sir 
William  has  chosen  a  wealthy  gentleman  of  rank  and  dis 
tinction  for  you.  He  is  quite  right.  I  am  only  a  cornet  of 
horse,  and  won't  be  that  long.  All  the  same,  I  cannot  see 
why  he  forbids  me  to  wed  you.  He  told  me  he  wished  it! 
I  cannot  see  why  he  should  so  slight  me!  Why  should  he 
forbid  me  to  wed  you  ?" 

"  Do  you  care  ?"  asked  Silver  Heels. 

"Who— I?  Care?  Why— why,  I  don't  know.  It  is  not 

283 


CARDIGAN 

very  pleasant  to  be  told  you  are  too  poor  and  humble  to  wed 
your  own  kin  if  you  wish  to.    Suppose  I  wished  to  ?" 

After  a  moment  she  said :  "  Well — it's  too  late  now." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?"  I  said,  sharply.  "  I  do  not  see  why 
I  should  be  driven  away  from  you!  It  is  unfair!  It  is  un 
kind  !  It  is  mortifying  and  I  don't  like  it !  See  here,  Silver 
Heels,  why  should  Sir  William  drive  me  away  from  you?" 

"  You  have  never  needed  driving,"  said  Silver  Heels. 

"  Yes,  I  have !"  I  retorted.  "  Didn't  you  drive  me  away 
for  Bevan?" 

After  a  silence  she  stole  a  glance  at  me. 

"  Would  you  come  back — now  ?" 

Something  in  her  voice  startled  me. 

"  Why — yes,"  I  stammered,  not  knowing  exactly  what  she 
meant ;  "  I  cannot  see  that  there  is  such  difference  in  rank 
between  us  that  Sir  William  should  forbid  me  to  wed  you. 
Of  course  you  would  not  wed  beneath  you,  and,  as  for  me, 
I'd  sooner  cut  my  head  off!" 

"  I  was  afraid,"  she  ventured,  "  that  perhaps — perhaps  Sir 
William  thought  you  had  become  too  fine  for  me.  I  could 
not  endure  to  wed  you  if  that  were  true." 

This  was  a  new  idea.  Was  it  true  that  my  quality  unfitted 
me  to  mate  with  Silver  Heels  ?  The  idea  did  not  gratify  me 
now. 

"  I'll  tell  you  this,"  said  I,  "  that  if  I  loved  you  in  that 
way — you  know  what  I  mean ! — I'd  wed  you  anyhow !" 

"  But  I  would  not  wed  you !"  she  said,  haughtily. 

"  You  would  not  refuse  me  ?"  I  asked,  in  amazement. 

"  I  should  hate  you — if  you  were  above  me — in  rank!" 

"  Even  if  you  loved  me  before  ?" 

"Ah,  yes — even  if  I  loved  you — as  I  love — him  whom  I  love." 

Her  clear  eyes  were  looking  straight  into  mine  now. 
Again  her  voice  had  stirred  some  new  and  untouched  chord 
which  curiously  thrilled,  sounding  stealthily  within  me. 

She  lowered  her  eyes  to  the  blue  blossom  in  her  fingers,  and 
I  saw  her  crush  it.  What  soft,  white  fingers  she  had!  The 
flushed  tips,  crushing  the  blossom,  fascinated  me. 

Again,  suddenly,  my  heart  began  to  beat  heavily,  thump 
ing  in  my  throat  so  strangely  that  I  shivered  and  passed  my 
hand  over  my  breast. 

284 


CARDIGAN 

Silver  Heels  bent  lower  over  her  idle  hands;  her  fingers,  so 
exquisite,  were  still  now. 

Presently  I  said,  "  Who  is  this  fool  whom  you  love  ?" 

I  had  not  thought  to  fright  or  hurt  her,  but  she  flushed 
and  burned  until  all  her  face  was  surging  scarlet  to  her  hair. 

"  Silver  Heels,"  I  stammered,  catching  her  fingers. 

At  the  touch  the  strange  thrill  struck  through  my  body 
and  I  choked,  unable  to  utter  a  word ;  but  the  desire  for  her 
hands  set  me  quivering,  and  I  caught  her  fingers  and  drew 
them,  interlocked,  from  her  eyes.  Her  eyes!  Their  beauty 
amazed  me;  their  frightened,  perilous  sweetness  drew  my 
head  down  to  them.  Breathless,  her  mouth  touched  mine; 
against  me  her  heart  was  beating ;  then  suddenly  she  had  gone, 
and  I  sprang  to  my  feet  to  find  her  standing  tearful,  quiver 
ing,  with  her  hands  on  her  throbbing  throat.  I  leaned  against 
a  sapling,  dazed,  content  to  meet  her  eyes  and  strive  to  think. 
Useless!  In  my  whirling  thoughts  I  could  but  repeat  her 
name,  endlessly.  Other  thoughts  crept  in,  but  flew  scattering 
to  the  four  winds,  while  every  pulse  within  me  throbbed  out 
her  name,  repeating,  ceaselessly  repeating,  in  my  beating 
heart. 

We  were  so  poor  in  years,  so  utterly  untried  in  love,  that 
the  strangeness  of  it  set  us  watching  one  another.  Passion, 
shaking  frail  bodies,  startles,  till  pain,  always  creeping  near, 
intrudes,  dismaying  maid  and  youth  to  love's  confusion. 

With  a  sort  of  curious  terror  she  watched  me  leaning  there, 
and  I  saw  her  trembling  fingers  presently  busied  with  the 
silken  hat  ribbons  under  her  chin,  tying  and  retying  as 
though  she  knew  not  what  she  did.  Then  of  a  sudden  she 
dropped  on  the  rock  and  fell  a-weeping  without  a  sound; 
and  I  knelt  beside  her,  crushing  her  shoulders  close  to  me, 
and  kissing  her  neck  and  hands,  nay,  the  very  damask  on  her 
knees,  and  the  silken  tongue  of  her  buckled  shoon  among  the 
buttercups. 

Why  she  wept  I  knew  not,  nor  did  she — nor  did  I  ask  her 
why.  Her  frail  hands  fell  listlessly,  scarcely  moving  under 
my  lips.  Once  she  laid  her  arm  about  my  neck,  then  dropped 
it  as  though  repelled.  And  never  a  word  could  we  find  to 
break  the  silence. 

I  heard  the  wind  blowing  somewhere  in  the  world,  but 

285 


CARDIGAN 

where,  I  cared  not.  I  heard  blossoms  discreetly  stirring,  and 
dusky  branches  interlacing,  taking  counsel  together  behind 
their  leafy,  secret  screens.  My  ears  were  filled  with  voiceless 
whisperings,  delicate  and  noiseless  words  were  forming  in 
the  silence,  "  I  love  you  " ;  and  my  dumb  tongue  and  lips, 
unstirring,  understood,  and  listened.  Then,  when  my  sweet 
heart  had  also  heard,  she  turned  and  put  both  arms  around 
my  neck,  linking  her  fingers,  and  her  gray  eyes  looked  down 
at  me,  beside  her  knees. 


"  Now  you  must  go,"  she  was  repeating,  touching  her  little 
French  hat  with  tentative  fingers  to  straighten  it,  but  eyes 
and  lips  tenderly  smiling  at  me.  "  My  Lady  Shelton  and  Sir 
Timerson  Chank  will  surely  return  to  catch  you  here  if  you 
hasten  not — dear  heart." 

"  But  will  you  not  tell  me  when  you  first  loved  me,  Silver 
Heels?"  I  persisted. 

"  Well,  then — if  you  must  be  told — it  was  on  the  day  when 
you  first  wore  your  uniform,  and  I  saw  you  were  truly  a 
man!" 

"  That  day !     When  you  scarcely  spoke  to  me  ?" 

"  Ay,  that  was  the  reason.  Yet  now  I  think  of  it,  I  know 
I  have  always  loved  you  dearly;  else  why  should  I  have  been 
so  hurt  when  you  misused  me ;  why  should  I  have  cried  abed 
so  many,  many  nights,  vowing  to  my  heart  that  I  did  hate 
you  as  I  hated  no  man!  Ah — dear  friend,  you  will  never 
know — " 

"  But,"  I  insisted,  "  you  grew  cool  enough  to  wed  Lord 
Dunmore — " 

"  Horror !  Why  must  you  ever  hark  back  to  him  when  I 
tell  you  it  was  not  I  who  did  that,  but  a  cruelly  used  and 
foolish  child,  stung  with  the  pain  of  your  indifference,  mad 
dened  to  hear  you  talk  of  mating  me  as  though  I  were  your 
hound! — and  my  only  thought  was  to  put  myself  above  you 
and  beyond  your  reach  to  shame  me — " 

"  Oh,  Silver  Heels !"  I  murmured,  aghast  at  my  own  wick 
edness. 

But  she  was  already  smiling  again,  with  her  slender  hands 
laid  on  my  shoulders. 

286 


CARDIGAN 

"  All  that  tastes  sweetly — now,"  she  said. 

"  It  is  ashes  in  my  mouth,"  I  said,  bitterly,  and  upbraided 
myself  aloud,  until  she  placed  her  fingers  on  my  face  and 
silently  signed  me  to  turn  around. 

At  the  same  instant  a  wheezy  noise  came  to  my  ears,  and 
the  next  moment,  over  the  edge  of  the  slope,  a  large,  round 
face  rose  like  the  full  moon. 

Fascinated,  I  watched  it;  the  wheezing  grew  louder  and 
more  laboured. 

"Lady  Shelton!  Oh,  go!  go!"  whispered  Silver  Heels. 
But  it  was  too  late  for  flight  had  I  been  so  minded. 

Suddenly  my  Lady  Shelton's  fat  feet  began  to  trot  as 
though  of  their  own  notion,  for  her  cold,  flabby  features  ex 
pressed  no  emotion,  although,  from  the  moment  her  moon- 
like  face  had  risen  behind  the  hill,  I  saw  that  her  eyes  were 
fixed  on  me. 

After  her  puffed  the  fat  gentleman,  Sir  Timerson  Chank, 
and  behind  him  came  mincing  Lord  Dunmore,  fanning  his 
face  with  a  lace  handkerchief,  his  little  gold-edged  French 
hat  under  his  arm.  Faith,  he  was  in  a  rare  temper. 

Lady  Shelton  paddled  up  to  Silver  Heels,  halted,  and 
panted  at  her.  Then  she  turned  on  me  and  panted  at  me 
until  her  voice  returned.  With  her  voice,  her  features  as 
sumed  a  most  extraordinary  change;  billows  of  fat  agitated 
the  expanse  of  chin  and  cheek,  and  her  voice,  babyish  in  fury, 
made  me  jump,  for  it  sounded  as  though  some  tiny,  pixy 
creature,  buried  inside  of  her,  was  scolding  me. 

Sir  Timerson  Chank  now  bore  down  on  my  left  and  pres 
ently  rounded  to,  delivering  his  broadside  at  short  range ;  but 
I  turned  on  him  savagely,  bidding  him  hold  his  tongue, 
which  so  astonished  him  that  he  obeyed  me. 

As  for  Dunmore,  his  shrill  prattle  never  ceased,  and  he 
danced  and  vapoured  and  fingered  his  small-sword,  till  my 
hands  itched  to  throw  him  into  the  blackberry  thicket. 

"  If,"  said  I,  to  Lady  Shelton,  "  you  are  pleased  to  forbid 
me  your  door,  pray  remember,  madam,  that  your  au 
thority  extends  no  farther!  I  shall  not  ask  your  permis 
sion  to  address  my  cousin, Miss  Warren — nor  yours!"  I  added, 
wheeling  on  Sir  Timerson  Chank. 

"  Sir  Timerson !  Sir  Timerson !  Arrest  him !  You  are  a 

287 


CAKDIGAN 

magistrate.  Sir  Timerson!  Arrest  him!  Oh,  I'm  all  of  a 
twitter!"  panted  Lady  Shelton. 

But  Sir  Timerson  Chank  made  no  sign  of  compliance. 

"  Lord  Dunmore,"  I  said,  "  by  what  privilege  do  you 
assume  to  vapour  and  handle  the  hilt  of  your  small-sword 
in  Miss  Warren's  presence  ?" 

"  Sink  me !"  cried  Lord  Dunmore.  "  Sink  me  now,  Mr. 
Cardigan ;  you  should  know  that  I  have  privileges,  sir.  I 
will  have  you  to  know  that  I  have  privileges,  sir !  Crib  me ! 
but  I  will  assert  my  rights !" 

"  Your — what  ?"  I  replied,  contemptuously. 

"  My  rights !  My  privilege  to  defend  Miss  Warren — my 
rights,  sir !  I  stand  upon  them,  crib  me,  if  I  don't !" 

"  Shame  on  you !"  cried  Lady  Shelton,  panting  angrily  at 
me.  "  Shame  on  you — you  mannerless,  roving,  blustering, 
hectoring  rebel! — you — you  boy!  Oh,  I'm  all  of  a  twitter! 
Sir  Timerson,  I'm  all  of  a  twitter! — " 

"  Oh  tally !"  broke  in  Dunmore,  peeping  at  me  through  his 
quizzing-glass.  "  The  lad's  moon-mad !  A  guinea  to  a  china 
orange  that  the  lad's  moon-mad.  You  may  see  it  in  his  eyes, 
Sir  Timerson.  You  may  see  he's  non  compos — eh,  Sir  Timer- 
son?  Sink  me  if  he  isn't!" 

How  I  controlled  myself  I  scarcely  know,  but  I  strove  to 
remember  that  a  hand  raised  to  Lord  Dunmore,  Governor  of 
\rirginia,  meant  the  ruin  of  my  plans  for  the  night.  As  I 
stood  staring  at  the  wizened  macaroni,  aching  to  take  his 
sword,  break  it,  and  spank  him  with  the  fragments,  I  saw 
Jack  Mount  and  the  Weasel  cautiously  reconnoitring  the 
situation  from  the  hill's  edge. 

Ere  I  could  motion  them  away  they  had  made  up  their 
minds  that  I  was  in  distress,  and  now  they  came  swaggering 
into  our  circle,  thumbs  hooked  in  their  shirts,  saluting  poor 
Silver  Heels  with  a  flourish  that  drew  a  thin  scream  from 
Lady  Shelton. 

"  Trouble  with  this  old  scratch-wig  ?"  inquired  Mount, 
nodding  his  head  sideways  towards  Lord  Dunmore. 

"  Damme !"  gasped  Dunmore.  "  Do  you  know  who  I  am, 
you  beast  ?" 

"I  know  you're  a  ruddled  old  hunks," said  Mount, carelessly. 
"  Who  may  the  other  guinea  wig-stand  be,  Mr.  Cardigan  ?" 

283 


CARDIGAN 

As  he  spoke  he  looked  across  at  Sir  Timerson  Chanks,  then 
suddenly  his  eyes  grew  big  as  saucers  and  a  low  whistle 
escaped  his  lips. 

"  Gad !"  he  exclaimed.  "  It's  the  magistrate  or  I'm  a  cod 
fish!" 

"  Fellow !"  roared  Sir  Timerson,  his  face  purpling  with  pas 
sion.  "  Fellow !  Thunder  and  Mars !  Lord  Dunmore,  this  is 
Jack  Mount,  the  highwayman !" 

For  an  instant  Dunmore  stood  transfixed,  then  he  screamed 
out :  "  Close  the  gates !  Close  the  gates,  Sir  Timerson !  He 
shall  not  escape,  damme!  No,  he  shall  not  escape!  Call  the 
constables,  Sir  Timerson ;  call  the  constables !" 

Mount  had  paled  a  little,  but  now  as  Sir  Timerson  began 
to  bellow  for  a  constable,  his  colour  came  back  and  he  stepped 
forward,  laying  a  heavy  hand  on  the  horrified  magistrate's 
shoulder. 

"  Come  now ;  come  now,"  he  said ;  "  stop  that  bawling,  or 
I'll  put  your  head  between  your  knees  and  truss  you  up  like 
a  basted  capon !"  And  he  gave  him  a  slight  shake  which  dis 
lodged  Sir  Timerson's  forty-guinea  wig. 

"  You  Tory  hangman,"  said  Mount,  scowling,  "  if  I  ever 
took  a  penny  from  you  it  was  to  help  drive  you  and  your 
thieving  crew  out  of  the  land!  Do  you  hear  that?  Now  go 
and  howl  for  your  thief-takers,  and  take  his  Lordship,  here, 
with  you  to  squall  for  his  precious  constables !"  And  he  gave 
Sir  Timerson  a  shove  over  the  grassy  slope. 

Lady  Shelton  shrieked  as  Sir  Timerson  went  wabbling 
down  the  hill,  but  Mount  turned  fiercely  on  Dunmore  and 
shook  his  huge  fist  under  his  nose. 

"  Hunt  me  dow^i  if  you  dare !"  he  growled.  "  Move  a  finger 
to  molest  me  and  the  people  shall  know  how  you  stop  public 
runners  and  scalp  them,  too!  Oho!  Now  you  scare,  eh? 
Out  o'  my  way,  you  toothless  toad !" 

Dunmore  shrank  back,  almost  toppling  clown  the  hill, 
which  he  hurriedly  descended  and  made  off  after  Sir  Timer- 
son  towards  the  pavilion. 

"  Come,"  said  I,  "  that  will  do  for  the  present,  Jack.  Look 
yonder!  Your  friend,  the  magistrate,  is  toddling  fast  to  trap 
you.  You  should  be  starting  if  you  mean  to  get  out  of  this 
scrape  a  free  man." 

T  289 


CARDIGAN 

"  Pooh !"  replied  Mount,  swaggering.  "  I've  time  to  dine  if 
I  chose,  but  I'm  not  hungry.  Come,  Cade;  we  needs  must 
kick  some  planks  out  of  that  stockade  below  us,  if  they 
guard  the  gates.  But  we  have  time  to  stroll." 

The  Weasel  did  not  appear  to  hear  him,  and  stood  staring 
at  Silver  Heels  with  an  expression  so  strange  that  it  was  al 
most  terrifying.  For  a  moment  I  feared  he  had  gone  stark 
mad. 

"Cade!"  repeated  Mount.  *  What  is  the  matter,  Cade? 
What  do  you  see?  Not  another  fat  magistrate?  Cade! 
What  on  earth  troubles  you,  old  friend?"  And  he  stepped 
quickly  to  the  Weasel's  side,  I  following. 

"  Cade !"  he  cried,  shaking  his  comrade's  arm. 

The  Weasel  turned  a  ghastly  face. 

"  Who  is  she  ?"  he  motioned,  with  his  lips. 

"  Do  you  mean  Miss  Warren  ?"  I  asked,  astonished. 

"  A  ghost,"  he  muttered,  shivering  in  every  limb. 

Presently  he  began  to  move  towards  Silver  Heels,  and 
Mount  and  I  drew  him  back  by  the  shoulders. 

"Cade!  Cade!"  cried  Mount,  anxiously.  "Don't  look 
like  that,  for  God's  sake !" 

"  For  God's  sake,"  repeated  Eenard,  trembling. 

His  eyes  were  dim  with  tears.  Mount  leaned  over  to  me 
and  whispered :  "  He  is  mad !"  But  the  Weasel  heard  him 
and  looked  up  slowly. 

"  No,  no,"  he  said ;  "  a  little  wrong  in  the  head.  Jack,  only 
a  little  wrong.  I  thought  I  saw  my  wife,  Jack,  or  her  ghost — 
ay,  her  ghost — the  ghost  of  her  youth  and  mine — " 

A  spasm  shook  him;  he  hid  his  face  in  his  hands  a  mo 
ment,  then  scoured  out  the  tears  with  his  withered  fingers. 

"  Ask  the  young  lady's  pardon  for  me,'*  he  muttered ;  "  I 
have  frightened  her." 

I  walked  over  to  Silver  Heels,  who  stood  beside  Lady  Shel- 
ton,  amazed  at  the  scenes  which  had  passed  so  swiftly  before 
her  eyes,  and  I  drew  her  aside,  mechanically  asking  pardon 
from  the  petrified  dowager. 

"  He  is  a  little  mad,"  I  said ;  "  he  thought  he  saw  in  you 
the  ghost  of  his  lost  wife.  Sorrow  has  touched  his  brain, 
I  think,  but  he  is  very  gentle  and  means  no  harm.  Speak 
to  him,  Silver  Heels.  I  owe  my  life  to  those  two  men." 

290 


CARDIGAN 

She  stood  looking  at  them  a  moment,  then,  laying  her 
hand  on  my  arm,  she  went  slowly  across  to  Mount  and 
Renard. 

They  uncovered  as  she  came  up;  the  Weasel's  face  grew 
dead  and  fixed,  but  the  pathos  in  his  eyes  was  indescrib 
able. 

"  If  you  are  Mr.  Cardigan's  friends,  you  must  be  mine, 
too,"  said  Silver  Heels,  sweetly.  "  All  you  have  done  for 
him,  you  have  done  for  me." 

Fascinated,  Mount  gaped  at  her,  tongue-tied,  clutching  his 
coon-skin  cap  to  his  breast.  But  the  fibre  of  the  two  men 
showed  the  difference  of  their  grain  in  a  startling  form,  for, 
into  Renard's  shrunken  frame  came  something  that  straight 
ened  him  and  changed  him ;  he  lifted  his  head  with  a  peculiar 
dignity  almost  venerable,  and,  stepping  forward,  took  Silver 
Heels's  small  hand  in  his  with  a  delicate  grace  that  any  man 
might  envy.  Then  he  bent  and  touched  her  fingers  with  his 
lips. 

"An  old  man's  devotion,  my  child,"  he  said.  "You  have 
your  mother's  eyes." 

"  My — my  mother's  eyes  ?"  faltered  Silver  Heels,  glancing 
fearfully  at  me. 

"Yes — your  mother's  eyes — and  all  of  her.  I  knew  her, 
child." 

"My— mother?" 

He  touched  her  hand  with  his  lips  again,  slowly. 

"  I  am  a  little  troubled  in  my  head  sometimes,"  he  said, 
gravely.  "  Do  you  fear  me  ?" 

"  N — no/'  murmured  Silver  Heels. 

Their  eyes  met  in  silence. 

Presently  I  took  Silver  Heels  by  the  hand  and  led  her  back 
to  Lady  Shelton. 

"  Madam,"  I  said,  "  if  aught  of  harm  comes  to  these  two 
men,  through  Lord  Dunmore,  betwixt  this  hour  and  the 
same  hour  to-morrow,  there  is  not  a  hole  on  earth  into  which 
he  can  creep  for  mercy.  Tell  this  to  my  Lord  Dunmore,  and 
bid  him  stay  away.  I  speak  in  no  heat,  madam ;  I  mean  what 
I  say.  For  as  surely  as  I  stand  here  now,  that  hour  in  which 
Lord  Dunmore  and  Sir  Timerson  start  to  hunt  us  down,  they 
die.  Pray  you,  madam,  so  inform  those  gentlemen." 

291 


CARDIGAN 

Then  I  turned  to  Silver  Heels,  who  impulsively  stretched 
out  both  hands.  The  next  moment  I  rejoined  Mount  and 
Renard,  and  we  passed  rapidly  through  the  grove  and  down 
the  hill  to  the  stockade,  where  Mount  drove  out  a  plank  with 
his  huge  shoulder,  and  we  were  free  of  Roanoke  Plain. 


CHAPTER    XVII 

T  ten  o'clock  that  night  I  sat  in  the  coffee-room  of  the 
"  Virginia  Arms,"  outwardly  cool  enough,  I  trust,  but 
terribly  excited  nevertheless,  and  scarce  able  to  touch  the  food 
on  my  plate. 

Heretofore,  although  I  have  always  dreaded  physical  pain, 
I  may  truthfully  say  that  the  prospect  of  it  had  never  de 
terred  me  from  facing  necessary  danger;  and  I  can  also 
maintain  that,  until  the  present  moment,  the  possibility  of 
disaster  to  me  or  mine  had  never  terrified  me  beforehand. 

Now  it  was  different ;  I  seemed  to  be  utterly  unable  to  con 
template  with  philosophy  the  chance  of  misfortune  to  Silver 
Heels,  through  failure  of  my  plans  or  accident  to  my  proper 
person.  It  was,  I  think,  responsibility  and  not  cowardice 
that  frightened  me;  for  who  was  there  to  take  care  of  Silver 
Heels  if  anything  happened  to  me  ? 

One  by  one  I  counted  and  discounted  the  dangers  I  ran: 
first,  arrest  at  any  moment  as  an  accomplice  of  the  notorious 
Jack  Mount;  second,  assassination  by  Dunmore's  agents; 
third,  assassination  by  Butler's  company;  fourth,  arrest  and 
imprisonment  as  a  suspected  rebel  and  open  advocate  of  se 
dition  ;  fifth,  danger  from  the  Cayugas  after  our  escape  from 
Fort  Pitt. 

Should  any  of  these  things  befall  me,  as  well  they  might, 
what  in  the  world  would  become  of  Silver  Heels?  Small 
wonder  I  found  no  heart  to  eat,  though  this  totally  new 
condition  of  mind  parched  me  with  a  thirst  so  persistent 
that  my  host,  James  Rolfe,  was  obliged  to  caution  me  and 
bring  me  to  my  senses  ere  I  had  dulled  them  hopelessly  in 
his  brown  home-brew. 

The  post-chaise,  loaded  and  ready  for  a  three  weeks'  jour 
ney,  stood  in  the  mews  with  the  four  strong  horses  harnessed, 

293 


CARDIGAN 

and  Jack  Mount  at  their  heads.    He  and  the  Weasel  were  to 
ride  as  post-boys,  with  Shemuel  and  I  in  front. 

It  lacked  an  hour  yet  of  the  time  appointed,  and  it  was 
the  suspense  of  that  hour's  waiting  which  set  every  nerve  in 
my  body  aching.  If  we  could  only  have  gone  somewhere  else 
to  wait! — but  where  could  we  go  and  find  safety  from  war 
rants  in  this  little  town  where  every  patriot  inn  was  known? 
Certainly  it  was  better  for  us  to  endure  the  strain  here 
among  sympathizers,  where  we  could  count  on  our  host  and 
on  his  guests  and  on  every  servant  from  stable  to  kitchen. 

The  arms  and  ammunition  which  the  Weasel  had  pur 
chased  were  now  properly  stowed  in  the  post-chaise.  Rifles 
and  pistols  had  been  primed  and  loaded,  powder-horns  re 
plenished,  flint  and  ball  fitted,  and  pans  oiled. 

Again  and  again  I  went  out  into  the  mews,  leaving  my 
food  untasted,  only  to  find  Mount  standing  quietly  at  the 
horses'  heads  and  the  Weasel  pacing  up  and  down,  plunged 
in  reverie. 

At  last  Shemuel  appeared,  slinking  past  the  lighted  inn 
windows  and  into  the  mews,  where  we  waited  in  the  star 
light,  rubbing  his  hands  and  peering  about  with  alert  obse 
quiousness  and  an  apparent  inability  to  appreciate  the  ten 
sion  that  I,  for  one,  quivered  under. 

"  I  haff  sold  all  my  goots,"  he  remarked,  cheerfully ;  "  my 
packets  I  haff  stored  mit  my  friends  at  dose  l  Bear  and  Cubs.' 
I  puy  me  Delaware  paskets  in  Baltimore — eh,  Jack  ?" 

"  Here  are  your  pistols,"  I  said ;  "  do  you  know  how  to  use 
them?" 

"Ach  yess,"  he  replied,  with  a  sly  smile  at  Mount,  who 
grunted,  and  said : 

"  Shemmy  is  just  as  handy  with  pistols  as  he  is  with  his 
needles.  No  fear,  Mr.  Cardigan,"  and  looking  around,  he 
motioned  the  peddler  to  his  side. 

"  I  hear  that  the  Monongahela  is  in  flood,"  he  said.  "  Is 
the  wooden  bridge  all  right,  Shemmy  ?" 

Shemuel  did  not  know  and  went  away  to  inquire,  returning 
presently  from  the  stables  with  the  information  that  heavy 
storms  had  swept  the  southern  mountains  and  the  Mononga 
hela  was  over  its  banks,  but  the  dam  below  the  bridge  had 
gone  out,  leaving  the  wooden  structure  safe. 

294 


CARDIGAN 

"  Then  there  won't  be  a  ford  for  twenty  miles,"  muttered 
Mount,  "  and  I'm  glad  of  it.  Shemmy,  just  borrow  four  new 
axes  of  Rolfe,  will  you?  And,  say,  just  shove  them  into  the 
boot!" 

Again  Shemuel  disappeared,  and  after  a  short  absence 
came  trotting  back  with  the  bundle  of  brand-new  axes  on  his 
shoulder. 

"  Are  they  ground  ?"  asked  Mount. 

"You  can  shave  mit  them,"  said  Shemuel,  running  his 
dirty  thumb  along  the  edges.  Then  he  shoved  them  into  the 
boot  and  looked  cunningly  up  at  me. 

The  slow  minutes  dragged  on.  Hands  clasped  behind  me,  I 
walked  up  and  down  the  muddy  alley,  twisting  my  interlocked 
fingers  until  every  nail  throbbed.  Mount  smoked  a  cob-pipe 
and  watched  me ;  Renard  stood  apart,  staring  up  at  the  stars, 
immersed  in  thought;  Shemuel  pattered  silently  among  the 
restive  horses,  thumbing  the  harness  and  poking  his  prying 
fingers  into  axle  and  unlighted  coach-lamp. 

Up  and  down  I  walked,  heart  beating  heavily,  watching  the 
mouth  of  the  alley  for  a  lurking  spy,  or  a  file  of  soldiers,  or 
Heaven  knows  what  phantoms,  which  fancy  conjured  in  my 
excited  brain.  But  I  saw  nothing  to  alarm  us,  and  was  about 
to  recommence  an  examination  of  the  new  rifle  which  Renard 
had  bought  me,  when  we  were  all  startled  by  a  rattle  of  hoofs 
filling  the  square  with  quick  echoes. 

Instantly  every  man  there  reached  for  his  rifle;  the  alley 
itself  suddenly  resounded  with  the  clattering  hoof-strokes  of 
a  hard-ridden  horse.  There  was  a  rush,  a  shadow,  and  a 
breathless  shout  from  the  horseman :  "  Express — ho !  Stand 
back !  I  pass !  I  pass !" 

"  It's  an  express,"  muttered  Mount,  lowering  his  long  rifle 
to  lean  on  it  and  watch  the  dark  rider  pull  his  frantic  horse 
to  its  haunches  and  fling  the  bridle  on  the  snorting  creature's 
neck,  while  he  turned  in  his  stirrups  and  searched  his  wallet 
by  the  glow  of  the  opening  kitchen  door. 

Rolfe,  in  his  shirt-sleeves  and  apron,  came  out  of  the  door, 
holding  his  hands  up  for  the  packets. 

"  Three  for  you,  Jimmy,"  said  the  bareheaded  express- 
rider,  passing  the  letters  over.  "  Draw  me  a  pot  o'  beers  for 
Heaven's  sake." 

295 


CARDIGAN 

"  Where  is  your  mate  ?"  asked  Rolf e,  anxiously. 

"  Hiram  ?  Full  of  war-arrows  t'other  side  o'  Crown  Gap. 
Here's  his  pouch." 

"  Scalped  ?"  asked  Rolfe,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  I  reckon  he  is.  He  never  knowed  nothing  after  the  third 
arrow.  Them  Wyandottes  done  it." 

A  tap-boy  hurried  out  with  the  brimming  pewter,  and  the 
shadowy  rider  emptied  it  at  a  gulp. 

"  'Nother,  Jim,"  he  said,  stolidly. 

"  There's  blood  onto  your  jaw,"  said  Rolfe,  gloomily. 

"  Ay,  they  drew  blood.  I  lost  my  hat " — here  he  swore 
fiercely — "  and  it  ain't  even  paid  for,  Jim!" 

"  You  orter  be  glad  you  got  through,  Ben  Prince,"  said 
Rolfe,  grimly. 

"  I  am — drat  that  boy !  where's  my  beer  ?  Oh,  there  you 
are,  are  you?  Gimme  the  pot  and  quit  gaping.  Hain't  you 
never  seed  a  express  before  ?" 

An  admiring  circle  of  hostlers  and  kitchen  wenches  laughed 
hysterically.  The  post-rider  swaggered  in  his  saddle  and 
stretched  out  his  feet  contentedly. 

"  Life  ain't  all  skittles,"  he  observed ;  "  but  beer  is  beer  the 
round  world  round!"  and  he  drained  the  pot  and  tossed  it 
dripping  to  an  honoured  scullion. 

"  News  o'  Boston  ?"  asked  Rolfe,  meaningly. 

"Plenty!  Plenty!  Port  Bill  in  force;  Tommy  Gage  on 
top;  Sam  Adams  lying  low;  more  redcoats  landed,  more  on 
the  way,  more  to  come;  rich  poorer;  poor  starving;  that's 
all!" 

He  gathered  his  bridle  and  winked  at  a  coy  kitchen-maid. 

"Your  beau  has  went  to  Johnstown,  Sairy,"  he  said;  "I 
seen  him  a-training  hay-foot,  straw-foot,  with  old  Sir  Billy's 
Tryon  County  milish.  That  reminds  me,  Jim  " — turning  to 
Rolfe — "  I've  a  packet  for  a  certain  Michael  Cardigan,  some 
where  to  be  hunted  up  south  o'  Crown  Gap — " 

"  Right  here !"  said  Rolfe,  promptly,  and  the  express  passed 
the  letter  to  him.  Then,  with  a  careless,  "  See  you  later !" 
he  wheeled  his  horse  short  and  galloped  back  along  the  alley, 
which  rang  with  shouts  of  "  Good  luck!  Good  luck!  There's 
bed  and  bait  for  you  here,  Benny!" 

The  crowd  on  the  steps  nocked  back  into  the  kitchen,  the 

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CARDIGAN 

door  closed,  then   opened  to  let  out  Rolfe,  who   advanced 
towards  me,  letter  in  one  hand,  flaring  candle  in  the  other. 

"Light  the  coach-lamps,"  I  whispered,  and,  taking  the 
candle  and  letter,  sat  down  on  a  pile  of  pine  timber  to  read 
what  Sir  William  had  sent  me: 

"  DEAR  LAD, — By  runners  from  the  Cayuga-  I  know  how  gal 
lantly  you  nave  conducted.  Dearer  than  son  you  are  to  me, 
prouder  am  I  than  any  parent.  If  what  we  had  hoped  and  pray 
ed  for  has  failed — as  I  can  no  longer  doubt — it  is  so  ordained, 
and  we  struggle  in  vain.  Nitor  in  adversum;  nisi  Dominus, 
frustra ! 

"  I  am  holding  the  Mohawks  back  by  their  very  throats,  but 
mischief  brews  at  the  Upper  Castle,  whither  Joseph  (Thayenda- 
negea)  has  gone  with  the  belts  from  me. 

"  Red  Jacket's  conduct  condemns  me  to  uneasiness.  He  is 
an  orator;  the  foul  murder  of  Logan  is  his  text.  I  need  say  no 
more,  save  that  I  still  hold  the  Mohawks  back. 

"  Colonel  John  Butler,  his  conduct  concerns  me,  and  I  needs 
must  view  it  with  grief  and  alarm.  His  dishonoured  son,  Wal 
ter  Butler,  is  still  absent;  the  elder  Butler  has  retired  to  the 
lakes,  where  I  am  informed  he  is  gathering  Tory  malecontents  and 
foolish  young  Onondagas,  for  what  ultimate  purpose  I  can  only 
imagine. 

"  A  most  deadly  and  bitter  feeling  runs  flood  in  Johnstown ; 
nightly  outrages  are  reported  to  me,  and  I  fear  that  the  so- 
called  patriots  are  quite  as  blameworthy  as  are  the  loyalists. 
Whig  and  Tory  hate  and  wait. 

"  Dear  lad,  the  sands  of  my  life  are  running  very  swiftly.  I 
am  so  tired,  so  tired !  Come  when  you  can ;  I  have  much  to  talk 
over  ere  these  same  sands  run  out,  leaving  a  voided  glass  in 
the  sunlight.  If  you,  by  hazard,  pass  through  Fort  Pitt,  you  will 
accompany  Felicity  on  her  return  hither,  which  return  I  have 
instantly  commanded  her  by  this  express.  I  have  received  a  sin 
gular  letter  from  my  Lord  Dunmore,  which  has  astonished  me. 
My  answer  to  him  I  delay  until  Felicity  returns.  Doubtless  she 
will  travel  hither  by  way  of  Richmond.  The  escort,  which  Lord 
Dunmore  must  furnish,  will,  on  their  return  journey,  take  with 
them  my  reply  to  his  Lordship. 

"  If  this  letter  reaches  you  in  time,  come  back  with  Felicity;  if 
not,  come  by  the  safe  route  through  Richmond.  Overtake  her  if 
you  can  do  so. 

"  Your  Aunt  Molly  is  well  and  sweetly  anxious  to  see  you  safe 
home.  Esk  and  Peter  do  flourish — yet  I  like  not  Peter's  haunt 
ing  the  public  houses  where  things  are  uttered  to  poison  young 
minds.  I  have  trounced  him  soundly  seven  times,  and  mean  to 
continue. 

"  The  news  from  Boston  is  ominous.  More  ships  are  about  to 

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CARDIGAN 

sail,  bearing  more  troops  and  cannon.  I  know  not  how  it  will 
end!  Ay  —  but  I  do  know,  and  so  must  every  thinking  man. 
Praemonitus  praemunitus! 

"  Michael,  I  have  had  a  most  strange  and  unpleasant  letter  from 
Sir  Peter  Warren,  who  encloses  with  it  certain  amazing  docu 
ments  which  he  has  carefully  perused,  to  his  great  mortification 
and  discontent.  These  papers  were  lately  sent  to  him  from 
Chatham  dockyard,  having  been  discovered  under  the  cabin  floor 
ing  of  the  war-ship  Leda,  which  his  brother  lately  commanded 
and  which  is  now  repairing  at  Chatham. 

"  The  documents  concern  Felicity — and  us  all — and  I  wish  you 
to  know  that  I  no  longer  approve  of  your  union  with  her,  at 
least  not  until  both  she  and  you  are  fully  acquainted  with  the 
contents  of  these  documents. 

"  And  now,  dear  son,  I  can  but  wait  for  you  to  come.  The 
house  is  dull  without  you.  I  have  sometimes  sought  to  drown 
care  in  the  river,  whither  I  go  with  gillie  Bareshanks  to  fly- 
fish  for  trouts.  But  I  am  growing  sad  and  old,  and  nothing 
pleases,  though  I  do  throw  my  flies  as  I  did  at  thirty,  looping 
each  cast  without  a  splash. 

"  Always  yr  affectionate 

"  WM.  JOHNSON,  BART. 

"  Post  Scriptum. — On  yr  return  I  have  planned  a-  fishing-trip 
to  the  Kennyetto  at  Fonda's  Bush,  where,  report  is,  a  monstrous 
trout  hath  been  seen  to  jump  frequently  in  that  bend  of  the 
stream  due  east  from  the  sugar  bush  on  the  hill. 

"  W.  J." 

My  eyes  were  swimming  when  I  lifted  them  from  the  sheets 
of  paper,  now  damp  with  dew.  For  a  moment  I  rested  my 
head  on  my  hands,  feeling  the  rising  tide  of  homesickness 
choking  me.  Then  that  subtle  courage,  which  a  word  from 
Sir  William  ever  infused,  warmed  my  blood  and  calmed  my 
beating  heart. 

I  rose  serenely,  and  laid  the  letter  to  the  candle's  flame, 
watching  it  burn  and  crisp  and  fall  in  flakes  which  no  prying 
spy  might  decipher.  Then  I  looked  at  my  new  watch,  and 
was  amazed  to  find  that  it  lacked  but  a  few  moments  to  the 
time  set  for  our  departure  from  the  "  Virginia  Arms." 

Rolfe  had  already  lighted  the  chaise-lamps;  Shemuel  had 
crawled  inside  with  our  weapons,  and  Renard  sat  his  post- 
saddle,  adjusting  the  stirrups ;  while  Mount  was  preparing  to 
climb  into  the  saddle  of  the  nigh  leader. 

"  Is  it  dark  out  there  in  the  square  ?"  I  asked  of  Rolfe. 

"I  guess  the  lanthorns  swing  a-light  on  every  seventh," 

298 


CARDIGAN 

lie  said.  "  I  darkened  mine,  but  the  watchman  came  batter 
ing-  and  bawling  tew  the  door  and  made  me  light  up  again." 

Mount  was  now  in  his  saddle;  I  held  my  ticking  time 
piece  under  the  coach-lamp,  eyes  following  the  slow  pointers 
travelling  towards  the  hour. 

And,  as  I  stood  there,  there  came  creeping  a  woman  into 
the  alley,  cloaked  and  bareheaded,  halting  and  crouching  to 
scan  our  chaise-lamps  under  her  inverted  hand.  Ere  Rolfe 
or  I  could  stop  her  she  ran  to  the  horse  on  which  Mount  was 
sitting  and  caught  the  forest-runner  by  the  fringe  on  his 
sleeve.  Then,  in  the  rays  of  the  chaise-lamp,  I  knew  her  for 
the  thief-taker's  child. 

"Hoity-toity,  what  the  devil's  tew  pay?"  said  Eolfe. 
"  Darn  the  ruddled  vixens  who  come  a-drabbing  into  iny 
mews,  with  a  hussy  tew  hail  you  afoot  and  a  baggage  tew 
boot  on  the  boot — " 

"  Keep  quiet !"  I  said,  sharply.  "  There's  trouble  abroad 
somewhere !" 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Cardigan,"  called  Mount,  softly,  "  Sir  Timerson 
and  a  gang  o'  cudgels  is  coming  up  Pitt  Street  and  Bully 
Bishop's  with  them !" 

The  girl  turned  her  frightened  face  to  me : 

"  They  came  for  father  to  take  Jack  Mount ;  I  ran  out  the 
back  door,  sir.  Oh,  hasten!  hasten!"  she  wailed,  looking  at 
Mount  and  wringing  her  hands. 

The  big  fellow  stooped  from  his  saddle  and  deliberately 
kissed  her. 

"  Thank  you,  my  dear,"  he  said ;  "  I'll  come  back  for 
another  before  I  die.  Au  large,  Jimmy!  Up  with  you,  Mr. 
Cardigan !" 

"  Turn  those  horses !  Take  their  heads !"  whispered  Rolfe. 
"  There's  one  back  way  tew  every  mews,  and  half  a  dozen  to 
this!" 

The  next  moment  I  had  wheeled  the  chaise-and-four  back 
into  the  darkness  and  around  a  rambling  row  of  sheds  and 
stables,  following  Rolfe,  then  to  the  left,  then  a  demi-tour  to 
the  right,  which  brought  us  up  against  a  heavy  stockade. 
But  already  Rolfe  had  set  a  creaking  gate  swinging  loosely, 
and  we  bumped  out  into  a  field,  hub-deep  in  buttercups. 

"  I'll  keep  the  scratch-wigs  amused,"  whispered  Rolfe,  as  I 

299 


CARDIGAN 

climbed  to  the  forward  seat  and  picked  up  my  rifle ;  and  away 
we  jolted  across  the  star-lit  pasture  and  out  into  a  narrow, 
unlighted  cattle  lane,  which  we  followed  to  the  bars.  These 
Shemuel  let  down,  popping  back  into  the  chaise  like  a  jack-o'- 
box,  and  Mount  rode  our  horses  out  into  the  dark  Boundary 
Road. 

There  was  not  a  soul  to  be  seen,  not  a  light,  not  a  sound 
but  the  hum  of  our  turning  wheels  and  the  slapping  trot  of 
our  horses. 

Presently,  on  a  dark  hillock  to  our  right,  I  saw  lighted  win 
dows  glimmering  among  trees,  and  I  called  in  a  low  voice  to 
Mount  and  sprang  noiselessly  to  the  road.  A  lane  led  around 
the  hillock  to  the  right;  up  this  dim  path  I  conducted  the 
chaise-and-four  until  I  found  room  to  turn  them  back,  facing 
the  Boundary  Road  again.  Here  our  chaise  might  lie  con 
cealed  from  passing  folk  on  the  highway,  and  here  I  quietly 
bade  Mount  and  Renard  await  me,  while  Shemuel  held  the 
horses'  heads. 

The  night  was  warm  and  fragrant  under  the  great  June 
stars  as  I  passed  silently  along  the  lane,  climbed  the  hillock 
and  entered  the  orchard.  Through  the  dim  trees  I  stole 
towards  the  house,  where  two  windows  on  the  ground  floor 
were  lighted  up. 

Then,  as  I  leaned  breathless  against  a  tree,  in  the  distant 
gloom  the  fortress  bell  struck  slowly,  eleven  times. 

Second  after  second  passed,  minute  followed  minute,  and 
my  eyes  never  left  the  closed  door  under  the  pillared  porch. 
Presently  I  looked  at  my  watch ;  a  quarter  of  an  hour  had 
passed.  The  seconds  began  to  drag,  the  minutes  loitered. 
Time  seemed  to  stand  still  in  the  world. 

Far  away  in  the  fortress  the  bell  struck  the  half-hour,  and 
on  the  west  breeze  came  the  dull  cry  of  sentinels  calling  from 
post  to  post  under  the  summer  stars. 

Suddenly  the  dark  door  opened ;  a  heavy  figure  appeared  in 
silhouette  against  the  light.  My  heart  stood  still;  it  was 
Black  Betty. 

The  negress  peered  out  into  the  darkness,  north,  west, 
south,  and  finally  looked  up  at  the  stars.  Then,  as  though 
summoned  from  within,  she  turned  quickly  and  entered  the 
house,  leaving  the  door  wide  open  behind  her. 

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CAKDIGAN 

Impatience  was  racking  me  now;  I  waited  until  I  could 
wait  no  longer;  then,  in  the  shadow  of  the  trellis-vines,  I 
stole  up  to  the  porch.  The  hallway  was  empty;  I  stepped  to 
the  sill,  crossed  it,  and  surveyed  the  empty  stairway  and  the 
gallery  above.  There  was  not  a  soul  in  sight.  Now  alarm 
seized  me,  a  swift,  overpowering  dread  which  drove  me  on  to 
seek  and  face  whatever  was  in  store  for  me.  A  door  on  my 
right  stood  open;  I  looked  in,  then  entered  the  smaller  of 
two  rooms,  which  were  partly  separated  from  each  other  by 
folding  doors.  Candles  burned  in  gilt  sconces;  glass  cabinets 
glittered;  mirrors  reflected  my  full  length  so  abruptly  that  I 
started  at  the  apparitions  and  clutched  my  hunting-knife. 

Treading  on  the  velvet  carpet  I  passed  into  the  farther 
apartment  which,  by  a  little  gallery  and  waxed  floor,  I  knew 
to  be  the  ballroom.  Not  a  soul  to  be  seen  anywhere.  Glanc 
ing  hurriedly  at  the  empty  ranks  of  gilded  chairs,  I  strove  to 
crush  out  the  fear  which  was  laying  icy  fingers  on  my  breast, 
and  I  had  already  turned  to  re-enter  the  smaller  room  when 
I  heard  the  front  door  close  and  voices  sounding  along  the 
outer  hallway.  I  stepped  behind  a  gilt  cabinet  and  drew  my 
heavy  knife,  perfectly  aware  that  I  was  trapped  like  a  fox 
in  a  snap-box. 

Through  the  carved  foliage  of  the  cabinet  I  saw  three  peo 
ple  enter  the  room.  The  skin  all  over  my  body  roughened  at 
the  sight  of  them;  and  what  held  me  back  I  do  not  know — 
perhaps  that  kind  Providence  which  watches  over  fools — for 
I  began  to  tremble  in  every  contracting  muscle  as  do  cats  in 
ambush  when  their  quarry  passes  unsuspecting. 

There  they  stood  in  low- voiced  consultation — Lady  Shelton, 
my  Lord  Dunmore,  and  my  mortal  enemy,  Walter  Butler, 
tricked  out  in  lace  and  velvet.  He  stood  so  near  to  me  that 
my  hot  hand  could  have  fastened  on  his  throat-strings  where 
I  crouched.  He  turned  towards  Dunmore  with  a  gesture. 

"  Sir  Timerson  should  find  them  to-night,"  he  said ;  "  your 
thief-taker,  Bully  Bishop,  is  with  them,  I  understand." 

"  They  are  to  search  every  rebel  rat-hole  in  town,"  cried 
Dunmore,  eagerly;  "they  should  claw  them  ere  dawn,  Cap 
tain  Butler.  Vive  Dieu,  nous  allons  les  clouer  en  terrain 
Ijouclitt!" 

Lord  Dunmore  leered  at  Lady  Shelton,  and  then  contem- 

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CARDIGAN 

plated  his  small  Trench  hat  as  though  seeking  countenance 
for  his  halting  tongue. 

"  If  I  am  to  conduct  Miss  Warren,"  said  Butler,  gloomily, 
"  you  had  best  see  her  without  delay,  my  Lord." 

His  round,  amber  eyes  of  a  bird  were  fixed  on  Dunmore. 

"  Come  now,"  said  Dunmore,  slyly,  "  I  am  half  minded  to 
conduct  her  myself,  Captain  Butler,  curse  me  if  I  am  not.  I 
hear  you  once  vowed  to  wed  her  in  spite  of  Sir  William 
and  me  too!  Damme,  I've  a  notion  you  mean  me  ill,  you 
rogue !" 

"  Your  Lordship  is  merry,"  sneered  Butler,  but  I  saw  his 
blank  eyes  contracting  as  he  spoke. 

"  Faith,  I  am  not  over-merry,"  said  Dunmore,  plaintively, 
drawing  a  diamond  pin  from  his  wig  and  contemplating  it. 
"  I  like  not  this  night  journey  to  Williamsburg,  that's  flat ! — 
and  I  care  not  if  you  know  it,  Captain  Butler." 

"  Then  I  pray  you  to  release  me  from  this  duty,"  sneered 
Butler. 

Dunmore  eyed  him  askance,  twirling  his  jewelled  pin. 

"  If  I  merit  your  suspicions,"  added  Butler,  icily,  "  I 
beg  to  wish  you  good  fortune  and  good-night!"  And  he 
bowed  very  low  and  turned  curtly  towards  the  door. 

"  No !  Damme  if  I  suspect  you !"  cried  Dunmore,  hastily. 
"  Come  back,  Captain  Butler !  Oh  tally,  man ! — is  there  no 
wit  in  you  that  you  freeze  at  a  jest  from  an  over-fond  suitor  ? 
You  shall  conduct  Miss  Warren  to  Williamsburg.  I  say  it! 
I  mean  it !  Body  o'  Judas !  am  I  not  to  follow  as  soon  as  1 
hang  this  fellow  Mount  and  his  rabble  o'  ragged  pottle-pots  ?" 

Butler  came  back,  and — oh,  the  evil  in  his  fixed  stare  as 
his  kindling  eyes  fastened  on  Dunmore  again ! 

"Will  you  be  pleased — to — to  receive  Miss  Warren  im 
mediately?"  asked  Lady  Shelton,  in  a  flutter  of  jellyfied 
excitement.  "  I  have  her  closely  watched  wherever  she 
takes  a  step.  She  has  her  boxes  packed,  the  wilful  child! 
Lud!  she  would  have  been  gone  these  two  hours  had  not 
Captain  Butler's  man  caught  my  footman  with  a  guinea!" 

"  I  have  a  copy  of  her  letter,"  squeaked  Dunmore,  angrily. 
"  Faith,  I  could  scratch  her  raw  for  what  she  wrote  to  that 
dirty  forest-running  fellow,  Cardigan !" 

"  Fie !  Fie !"  tittered  Lady  Shelton,  hysterically,  shaking  a 

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CAKDIGAN 

fat  finger  at  the  painted  beau.  "  Over- fond  lovers  should 
forgive !" 

"  Curse  me  if  I  forget,  though,"  muttered  his  Lordship. 
"  If  I  have  to  wait  till  Innocents'  day,  I'll  birch  the  little  bag 
gage  yet !" 

He  turned  nervously  to  Butler : 

"You  had  best  attend  in  the  ballroom,  Captain  Butler. 
Gad!  I  can  persuade  her,  I  think,  within  the  half -hour. 
Lady  Shelton,  you  will  be  in  one  of  your  cursed  twitters  if 
you  remain  here,  and  those  same  twitters  set  me  dancing. 
Damme,  madam!  you  are  twittering  now!  I  sha'n't  endure 
it !  I  can't  endure  it !  Pluck  me  bald  if  I  can !" 

"  I — I  will  send  her  to  you,"  stammered  the  dowager, 
curtseying  in  a  panic. 

"And  stay  away  until  you're  wanted,"  added  Dunmore, 
brutally. 

Lady  Shelton  stared  at  him  with  frightened  eyes ;  then  her 
little  fat  feet  set  themselves  in  motion,  and  she  pattered  has 
tily  out  of  the  room.  The  men  exchanged  sneers. 

"  I'll  be  rid  o'  that  ruddled  sack  o'  lollypops  now,"  observed 
Lord  Dunmore,  complacently.  "  Will  you  not  take  your  turn, 
Captain  Butler?  No?  Well,  I  owe  thanks  to  Sir  Timerson 
then.  Pst!  There's  some  one  on  the  stairs!  Give  me  joy, 
Captain  Butler,  and  mind  you  keep  closed  eyes,  you  rogue !'! 

Butler  gave  him  a  contemptuous  stare,  then  swung  on  his 
heel,  and  balancing  his  thin  hand  on  the  hilt  of  his  small 
sword,  walked  noiselessly  into  the  dim  ballroom. 

Dunmore  stood  listening,  passing  the  diamond  pin  back 
through  his  wig,  and  shaking  out  the  long,  delicate  lace  on 
his  cuffs. 

Nobody  came.  He  raised  his  spy-glass  and  tiptoed  over  to 
the  mirror,  primping,  preening,  smirking,  and  ogling  himself, 
occasionally  turning  his  good  ear  to  the  door  to  listen. 

Presently  he  began  to  pace  the  velvet,  fanning  his  nose 
with  a  lace  handkerchief,  and  simpering  all  to  himself. 

The  extravagance  of  his  dress  might  have  amused  me  had 
not  my  mind  been  filled  with  deadly  thoughts.  He  was  all 
in  yellow,  silk  coat,  and  silver-shot  waistcoat,  with  breeches 
of  gold  brocade  and  white  silk  stockings.  Lace  tumbled  in 
soft  cascades  over  his  claw-like  fingers ;  a  white  sash  and  star, 

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CAKDIGAN 

set  with  brilliants,  covered  his  breast;  a  gorgeous  stock  glit 
tered  under  the  fluffy  lace  at  his  withered  throat. 

I  noted  these  features,  one  by  one,  but  my  thoughts  had 
flown  up-stairs  to  seek  throughout  this  shameful  house  for 
the  dear  maid  who  had  given  herself  to  me. 

Suddenly  she  appeared  at  the  door,  so  suddenly  that  Lord 
Dunmore  started  from  the  mirror  with  a  suppressed  squeal 
of  surprise.  As  for  me,  I  quivered  in  my  lurking-place,  and 
for  a  moment  could  scarce  see  her  for  the  mist  in  my  eyes. 

Yet  there  she  stood,  hesitating,  smiling,  her  hands  busy 
with  the  buckle  of  a  travelling-coat  adorned  with  row  on  row 
of  dainty  capes.  Under  the  silvery  gray  coat  I  could  see  her 
little  doe-skin  shoon  peeping  out.  Now,  with  gloved  hands, 
she  began  widening  the  hood  on  her  head,  to  tie  it  beneath 
her  chin,  with  a  sidelong  glance  at  the  mirror  and  a  faint 
smile  for  her  mirrored  face. 

Never,  never  had  I  seen  her  so  lovely,  never  had  her  eyes 
so  thrilled  me,  nor  her  sweet,  dumb  lips  called  to  me  more 
clearly.  For  a  moment  I  thought  she  had  perceived  me 
through  the  cabinet's  gilded  foliage;  but  my  presence  was 
still  all  unsuspected. 

At  first  sight  of  her  hood  and  travelling-coat,  Lord  Dun- 
more  had  scowled.  Then,  fascinated,  he  pretended  to  a  trance 
and  clasped  his  hands,  rolling  his  rheumy  eyes  towards 
heaven.  Seeing  her  face  fall,  however,  he  recovered  quickly 
enough  and  leered  at  her  from  head  to  toe. 

"  Cruel  one,"  he  piped  out  in  ecstasy,  mincing  towards  her. 
"  Cruel  one,  what  do  you  ask  that  I  may  adore  ?" 

"Your  Lordship's  pardon,"  she  said,  gravely;  "I  am  here 
to  ask  forgiveness." 

"  Granted !  You  have  it,"  protested  Dunmore,  eagerly, 
leading  her  to  a  chair  and  bowing  above  her  as  she  was  seated. 
"  You  have  grieved  me,  but  man  was  made  to  grieve.  I  for 
give,  and  give  my  love  as  guerdon." 

"You  are  too  generous,"  said  Silver  Heels,  sorrowfully; 
"  I  may  keep  only  your  forgiveness,  my  Lord." 

She  would  have  spoken  again,  but  Dunmore  bent  his  stiff 
joints  and  dropped  on  both  knees,  ogling  her  with  watery 
eyes. 

She  half  rose  and  drew  back  with  a  pleading  gesture,  but 

304 


CAKDIGAN 

the  infatuated  fool  drowned  her  protests  with  his  shrill 
prattle,  and  clasping  his  transparent  hands  together  under 
the  lace,  pleaded  his  suit  so  passionately  that  my  gorge  rose 
and  I  could  scarce  contain  myself. 

At  last  his  chatter  died  away  in  miscellaneous  noises,  sniffs, 
gulps,  and  senile  sounds;  and  he  tried  to  seize  her  gloved 
hand,  making  a  clacking  smack  with  his  thin,  dry  lips. 

Silver  Heels  shrank  deep  into  her  chair,  hiding  her  hands 
from  him  under  her  chin,  and  begging  him  to  rise,  which  he 
did  at  last,  scowling  his  displeasure. 

Then,  very  gravely  and  pitifully,  she  told  him  that  she  did 
not  love  him,  that  she  had  given  her  love  to  another,  and  that 
she  could  now  only  ask  his  forgiveness,  yet  never  forgive  her 
self  for  the  wickedness  she  had  so  wilfully  practised. 

He  stood  listening  in  silence  at  first,  then  his  faded  eyes 
narrowed  with  fury,  and  in  his  worn  cheeks,  under  the  rouge, 
a  sickly  colour  stained  the  flesh.  The  change  in  the  man  was 
frightful. 

"  D'ye  mean  to  throw  me  over  for  that  wood-running  whelp, 
Cardigan  ?"  he  burst  out.  "  Oh  no,  my  lady,  that  cock  won't 
fight,  d'ye  hear?" 

The  startling  coarseness  of  the  outbreak  brought  Silver 
Pleels  to  her  feet  in  frightened  astonishment.  Horror  man 
tled  throat  and  cheeks  with  crimson ;  she  shrank  back,  catch 
ing  support  on  a  marble  table  beside  her. 

All  over  Dunmore's  scowling  visage  the  enamel  was  crack 
ing;  he  paced  the  carpet  like  one  demented,  chattering  and 
scratching  at  the  air. 

"  I  will  not  be  so  used !  Curse  me  if  I  will !"  he  snarled, 
biting  his  polished  nails.  "  Hell's  fury !  madam ;  do  you 
think  to  throw  me  over  for  a  hind  of  buckskin?  Damn  me 
if  you  shall ! — and  Lady  Shelton  saw  him  kiss  you  on  the 
knoll  at  that!  Fine  sport,  madam!  Fine  sport!  So  you 
think  to  make  me  the  laughing-stock  o'  Virginia?  So  you 
write  letters  to  your  buckskin  lout  and  plan  to  run  off  with 
him  in  a  post-chaise — eh  ?  Damned  if  you  shall !  Damned  if 
you  do!" 

"  Pray — pray  let  me  pass,"  gasped  Silver  Heels,  choking 
with  fright. 

He  caught  the  door  in  his  hand,  closing  it,  and  planted 
u  305 


CAKDIGAN 

himself  with  his  back  against  it.  Then  he  fumbled  behind 
him  for  the  key,  but  it  was  in  the  other  side  of  the  door. 

"  Oh  no,  not  yet,"  he  said. 

"I  must  pass  that  door," repeated  Silver  Heels, breathlessly. 

"  By  God,  you  shall  not !"  he  cried.  "  You  shall  stay  here 
all  night,  d'ye  hear  ?  Ay,  and  folk  shall  hear  of  it  and  gossip, 
too,  and  the  whole  world  shall  know  how  the  Governor  of 
Virginia  bundled  to  win  a  worthless  wife!  I  tell  you  I  mean 
to  have  you,  and  if  you  wed  me  not  fair  you  shall  wed  me 
compromised,  and  thank  me,  too,  for  my  name  to  cloak  your 
shame  withal !" 

His  voice  ended  in  a  shriek;  the  door  behind  him  burst 
open,  flinging  him  forward,  and  Black  Betty  appeared,  eyes 
ablaze  and  teeth  bared.  The  next  instant  Silver  Heels  sprang 
through  the  portal,  the  door  banged,  and  I  heard  the  key  turn 
on  the  other  side  with  a  click. 

Dumfounded,  I  looked  stupidly  through  the  window  be 
hind  me,  then  my  heart  leaped  up,  for  there,  at  the  foot  of 
the  garden,  stood  a  post-chaise  and  four,  lamps  lighted,  and 
postilions  sitting  their  horses.  There,  too,  were  Silver  Heels 
and  Betty,  setting  foot  to  the  chaise  step.  Dark  figures  aided 
them,  the  chaise  door  shut.  I  thanked  God  silently  and 
turned  to  deal  with  these  wicked  men  whom  He  had  given 
into  my  hands. 

Dunmore,  insane  with  fury,  was  clawing  at  the  window  to 
raise  it;  Butler  came  swiftly  from  the  ballroom  and  tried 
the  door.  Finding  it  locked,  he  looked  at  Dunmore  with  a 
ghastly  laugh. 

"  She's  gone !"  shrieked  Dunmore.  "  Gone  in  a  chaise ! 
That  black  slut  of  hers  did  it!  Let  me  out!  Let  me  out! 
I'll  claw  them  raw!  I'll  pinch  them  to  death!  I  won't  stay 
here,  d'ye  hear?" 

His  voice  soared  into  a  falsetto  screech,  and  he  tore  at 
his  gums  with  his  nails  and  stamped  his  feet. 

"  Give  place  there !"  said  Butler,  brutally  elbowing  the 
frantic  man  aside.  "  Let  me  through  that  window,  you  dod 
dering  fool !  You're  done  for ;  it's  my  turn  now." 

"  What !"  gasped  Dunmore.  Then  terror  blanched  his  face, 
and  he  began  to  scream:  "  That  was  your  chaise!  You  mean 
to  cheat  me !  You  mean  to  steal  her !  That  was  your  chaise, 

306 


CARDIGAN 

and  it's  gone !  No !  No !  Damme,  you  shall  not  catch  them 
at  the  gates  I"  And  he  flung  himself  on  Butler  to  drag  him 
from  the  open  window. 

"  Drive  on !"  shouted  Butler,  leaning  out  and  calling  to  the 
people  in  the  chaise. 

Startled,  I  turned  and  stared  through  the  window  behind 
me.  To  my  horror  the  horses  started  and  the  chaise  began 
to  move  off.  Even  yet  I  did  not  comprehend  that  the  chaise 
was  not  my  own,  but  to  see  it  slowly  rolling  away  in  the  night 
terrified  me,  and  I  bounded  out  into  the  room — barely  in 
time,  for  Butler  had  already  forced  Dunmore  from  the  open 
window  and  had  laid  his  hand  on  the  wall  to  hoist  himself 
out.  Quick  as  the  thought,  I  balanced  my  heavy  knife,  hilt 
to  palm,  swung  forward  and  let  it  fly  like  lightning.  The 
blade  whistled  true  and  struck,  pinning  Butler's  arm  to  the 
wall.  God !  how  he  shrieked  and  shrank,  twisting  and  turning 
to  tear  the  blade  loose.  Dunmore  ran  around  like  a  crazed 
rat,  but  I  knocked  him  senseless  with  a  chair,  and  sprang  at 
Butler,  who,  writhing  and  ghastly  pale,  had  just  freed  his  left 
hand  of  the  knife.  He  ran  at  me  with  his  sword,  but  I  shat 
tered  my  heavy  chair  across  his  face,  and  seized  him,  mean 
ing  to  cut  his  throat.  Twist  and  tear  and  clutch  as  he  would, 
he  could  not  escape  or  hurt  me;  the  coolness  of  murder  was 
in  my  heart;  I  strangled  him  with  one  hand  and  hunted 
around  the  floor  for  my  knife.  It  was  gone,  I  could  not  find 
it.  Then  a  wave  of  fury  blazed  in  my  brain;  I  lifted  the 
struggling  wretch  with  both  hands  above  my  head  and 
brought  him  down  on  the  floor,  where  he  crashed  as  though 
every  bone  in  him  were  shattered  to  the  marrow. 

As  I  reeled,  panting,  towards  the  window,  the  key  turned 
in  the  locked  door  and  Lady  Shelton's  frightened  face  ap 
peared.    When  she  saw  me  she  rushed  at  me  and  screamed, 
but  I  thrust  the  harridan  out  of  my  path,  vaulted  through 
the  open  window,  and  ran  down  the  orchard  slope.     Then,  as 
I  sprang  into  the  lane,  I  almost  dropped,  for  there,  where  I 
had  left  it,  stood  my  post-chaise,  awaiting  me. 
"  Mount !"  I  shouted  in  terror.    "  Is  she  here  ?" 
"  Here  ?"  he  cried.     "  You  are  mad !     Have  you  lost  her  ?" 
Through  my  whirling  senses  the  awful  truth  broke  like  a 
living  ray  of  fire. 

307 


CARDIGAN 

"  She  has  taken  another 
chaise.    It's  Butler's  men !    Ride  for  her !    Ride !" 

"  Gone  ?"  thundered  Mount,  leaping  to  the  seat,  while  I 
sprang  to  his  vacant  saddle.  But  I  only  lashed  at  the  horses, 
and  set  my  teeth  while  the  dust  flew  and  the  pebbles  showered 
through  the  flying  wheels. 

It  seemed  hours,  yet  it  was  scarcely  five  minutes,  ere  the 
gate-house  lights  broke  out  ahead,  dots  of  dim  yellow  dancing 
through  the  dust.  Now  we  were  galloping  straight  into  the 
eye  of  the  great  brass  lanthorn  set  above  the  guard-house; 
there  came  a  far  call  in  the  darkness,  a  shadow  crossed  the 
lamplit  glare,  then  I  turned  in  my  saddle  and  shouted: 
"Draw  bridle!" — and  our  four  horses  came  clashing  in  a 
huddle  with  a  hollow  volley  of  hoof-beats. 

"  Road  closed  for  the  night !"  said  a  sentinel,  walking  tow 
ards  us  from  the  darkness  ahead,  cap,  buckle,  and  buttons 
glittering  in  the  lamplight. 

"  A  post-chaise  passed  five  minutes  ahead  of  us,"  began 
Mount,  angrily. 

"  Tut !  tut !  my  good  fellow,"  said  the  sentry ;  "  that's  none 
o'  your  business.  Back  up  there !" 

"  I  wish  to  see  Mr.  Bevan,"  said  I,  scarce  able  to  speak. 

"  Mr.  Bevan's  gone  home  to  bed,"  said  the  soldier,  impa 
tiently.  "  He  passed  that  other  post-chaise  at  a  gallop,  or  it 
would  have  been  here  yet,  I  warrant  you.  Come,  come,  now ! 
You  know  the  law.  Clear  the  road,  now ! — turn  your  leaders, 
post-boy — back  up,  d'ye  hear !" 

"  I  tell  you  I've  got  to  pass!"  I  persisted. 

"  Oh,  you  have,  have  you  ?  And  who  are  you,  my  impor 
tant  friend?"  he  sneered,  barring  our  way  with  firelock 
balanced. 

"  I  am  dejputy  of  Sir  William  Johnson !"  I  roared,  losing 
all  self-control.  "  Stand  clear,  there !" 

"  If  you  move  I'll  shoot !"  he  retorted ;  then  without  turn 
ing  his  head  he  bawled  out :  "  Ho,  sergeant  o'  the  quarter- 
guard  !  Post  number  seven ! — 

"  Drive  over  him !"  I  shouted,  lashing  at  the  horses.  There 
was  a  jolt,  an  uproar,  a  rush  of  frantic  horses,  a  bright  flash 
and  report.  Then  a  wheel  caught  the  soldier  and  pitched  him 
reeling  into  the  darkness.  I  turned  in  my  stirrups,  glancing 

308 


CARDIGAN 

fearfully  at  Renard,  who  was  recovering  his  balance  in  the 
saddle  behind  me  and  lifting  a  firelock  to  the  pommel. 

"  Shot?"  I  asked,  breathlessly. 

"  No ;  I  caught  his  firelock ;  it  exploded  in  my  hand." 

"Look  out!"  called  Mount,  from  his  front  seat  on  the 
chaise.  "  The  toll-gate's  right  ahead !  There's  a  camp-guard 
due  there  at  midnight!  Out  with  your  coach-lamps!" 

Shemuel  jerked  open  each  lanthorn  and  blew  out  the 
lights;  darkness  hid  even  the  horses  from  our  sight. 

A  camp-guard !  Suppose  the  gate  was  closed !  Thirty  men 
and  a  drummer  ahead  of  us ! 

"  Cut  the  pike !"  cried  Mount,  suddenly.  "  We  save  six 
miles  by  the  old  Williamsburg  post-road  !  Turn  out !  Turn 
out!" 

Far  ahead  the  toll-gate  lamp  twinkled  through  the  dust;  I 
signalled  to  Renard  and  dragged  the  horses  into  a  trot,  strain 
ing  my  eyes  for  the  branch  road  we  had  seen  that  morning. 
I  could  see  nothing. 

"By  Heaven!  the  guard  is  gone;  there's  only  a  sentry 
there  1"  said  Mount,  suddenly. 

"  Pst !"  muttered  Renard.  "  We  are  the  grand  rounds, 
mind  you.  Answer,  Jack!" 

"Halt!"  cried  a  distant  sentry.    "Who  goes  there?" 

"  Grand  rounds !"  sang  out  Mount. 

"  Stand,  grand  rounds !  Advance,  sergeant,  with  the 
countersign!"  came  the  distant  challenge  again. 

"  Now,"  muttered  Mount,  leaping  softly  to  the  turf,  "  when 
I  call,  ride  up  to  me.  Hark  for  a  whippoorwill !" 

He  vanished  in  the  darkness.    I  waited,  scarcely  breathing. 

"  He  won't  kill  him,"  whispered  the  Weasel ;  "  you  will 
see,  Mr.  Cardigan,  how  it's  done.  He'll  get  behind  him — 
patience,  patience — pst ! — there !" 

A  stifled  cry,  suddenly  choked,  came  out  of  the  night;  the 
lanthorn  at  the  toll-gate  went  out  and  the  toll-house  door 
slammed. 

"  It's  the  keeper  barricading  himself,"  whispered  Renard ; 
"  he  thinks  the  sentry  has  been  surprised  and  scalped.  Hush ! 
Mount  is  calling." 

"  Whippoorwill !  Whippoorwill !"  throbbed  the  whimper 
ing,  breathless  call  across  the  meadow;  the  Weasel  answered 

309 


CARDIGAN 

it,  and  we  trotted  on  until  a  dark  shape  rose  up  in  the  road 
and  caught  at  the  leaders,  drawing  them  to  a  stand-still. 

"  'Nother  firelock,"  said  Mount,  shoving  the  weapon  into 
the  chaise  and  going  back  to  the  horses.  "  Here's  the  post- 
road;  I'll  guide  you  into  it."  And  he  started  east  through  a 
wall  of  shadow. 

"  Where's  the  sentry  ?"  whispered  Renard. 

"  In  the  ditch  with  his  coat  tied  over  his  head  and  my  new 
hanker  in  his  mouth.  The  frightened  fool  bit  me  so  I  scalped 
him—" 

"  What !"  cried  the  Weasel. 

"  Oh,  only  his  wig.  Here  it  is !"  And  he  flung  the  wig  at 
Renard,  who  caught  it  and  tossed  it  into  the  chaise  for  Shem- 
uel. 

Mount  halted  the  horses;  Shemuel  struck  flint  to  tinder, 
and  came  around  to  light  the  coach-lamps.  Under  their  kin 
dling  radiance  a  dusty  road  spread  away  in  front  of  us. 
Mount  unlocked  a  lighted  coach-lamp  and  went  forward, 
holding  the  light  close  to  the  road  surface.  Several  times  he 
squatted  to  look  close  into  the  dust. 

Presently  he  turned  and  ran  back  to  us,  set  the  lamp  in 
its  socket,  locked  the  clamp,  and  sprang  into  his  seat.  Shem 
uel  hastily  scrambled  into  the  chaise,  stuffing  the  wig  into 
his  pocket. 

"  They've  taken  the  turnpike !"  cried  Mount,  cheerily. 
"  Now,  lads !  Whip  and  spur  and  axle-grease !  Ride,  Cade ! 
Look  sharp,  Shemmy,  you  weasel-bellied  rascal!  We've  got 
them  by  half  an  hour,  or  I'll  eat  my  coon-skin  cap!" 

"  Freshen  all  primings !"  I  called  out  to  Shemuel,  and 
sent  my  whip  whistling  among  the  horses. 

Away  we  bolted,  chaise  swaying,  lamps  sweeping  the  dusty 
roadside  bushes,  and  the  gallop  increased  to  a  dead  run  as 
we  whirled  down  an  incline  and  out  along  a  broad,  flat, 
marshy  road,  where  the  jolting  lamps  flashed  on  the  surface 
of  a  swift  stream  keeping  pace  with  us  through  the  night. 

"  We  catch  them  where  the  pike  swings  south  into  this 
road,"  called  Mount ;  but  through  the  whistling  wind  I  could 
barely  hear  him.  Louder  and  louder  blew  the  wind  across 
the  flats,  shrieking  in  my  ears;  wetter  and  wetter  grew  the 
road,  until  the  splash  of  the  horses  grew  to  a  churning,  tram- 

310 


CARDIGAN 

pling  roar.  Like  a  flash  the  stream  turned  across  the  road; 
the  shallow  water  boiled  under  our  rush — a  moment  only — 
then  into  the  wet  road  again,  with  the  stream  scurrying  on 
our  right. 

Through  the  pelting  storm  of  mud  I  clutched  bridle  and 
whip  with  one  hand  and  pushed  my  pistol  under  my  shirt 
with  the  other,  calling  out  to  Renard  to  do  the  same. 

"  Get  my  axe  loose  from  the  boot,  Shemmy !"  cried  Mount. 
"Draw  rein,  Cade!  Now,  Mr.  Cardigan!"  And  he  leaped 
to  the  ground  and  ran  splashing  through  the  road,  calling  out 
for  us  to  follow  at  a  walk. 

Suddenly  our  horses'  hoofs  sounded  hollow  on  a  wooden 
bridge;  the  muddy  planks  glimmered  under  the  coach-lamps, 
and,  as  he  walked  the  horses  over,  far  below  us  we  heard  the 
dull  roar  of  water  pouring  through  the  solid  rock.  Now 
came  the  echoing  cracks  of  Mount's  axe,  biting  the  supports 
of  the  bridge,  and  presently  Shemuel  joined  him,  chopping 
like  a  demon. 

"  We  lose  time !"  I  groaned,  turning  to  the  Weasel.  "  Call 
Mount  to  let  the  bridge  go." 

"  We'll  lose  time  if  the  bridge  stands,"  said  Renard,  coolly. 
"  Dunmore's  horse  will  take  our  trail  sooner  or  later,  and  we 
inay  have  to  wait  an  hour  for  the  chaise  we  are  chasing." 

Minute  after  minute  dragged,  timed  by  the  interminable 
axe-strokes.  Presently  the  Weasel  wriggled  out  of  his  saddle, 
ran  to  the  boot,  and  hurried  away,  axe  on  shoulder,  and  I 
sat  there  alone  in  the  lamplight,  gnawing  my  lips  and 
groaning. 

But  now,  above  the  sharp  axe-strokes  and  the  deep  roar  of 
the  torrent,  I  caught  the  sound  of  creaking  timbers.  Crack ! 
Crack !  Then  a  long-drawn  crackle  of  settling  beams,  ending 
in  a  crash  which  set  the  blowing  horses  on  their  hind  legs. 
Ere  I  could  pull  them  down,  Mount  came  running  back,  fol 
lowed  by  Renard  and  Shemuel. 

"  No  need  to  gallop  now,"  observed  Mount,  shoving  the 
axes  into  the  boot  and  brushing  the  mud  from  his  face.  He 
climbed  into  his  seat;  Shemuel  sought  the  body  of  the 
chaise,  and  Renard  mounted  the  horse  behind  me. 

"  Walk  the  horses,"  said  Mount ;  "  we  are  an  hour  ahead 
yet.  The  roads  cross  just  below  here.  Cheer  up,  Mr.  Cardi- 

311 


CARDIGAN 

gan;  we'll  sight  them  over  our  rifles  yet.  And  when  Dun- 
more's  horsemen  come  to  the  bridge  yonder,  they'll  have  some 
twenty  miles  to  wander  ere  they  can  cross  the  Monongahela 
to-night." 

"  The  river  is  in  flood ;  you  can  hear  it,"  added  Renard. 
"  There's  no  ford  for  twenty  miles  where  a  horse  could  live 
to-night." 

"  Lord !    Won't  Dunmore  rage !"  muttered  Mount. 

I  had  not  thought  of  pursuit,  but  there  was  probably  no 
doubt  that  Dunmore's  horse  were  already  hunting  our  trail 
somewhere  between  the  stockade  and  the  toll-gate.  If  that 
were  so  our  plans  must  be  changed,  for  we  could  not  traverse 
Virginia  with  the  Governor's  dragoons  at  our  heels. 

Distracted  with  anxiety,  cold  and  feverish  by  turns,  I 
strove  to  regain  self-command,  and  in  a  measure  succeeded. 
Mount  was  of  my  opinion  that  we  must  take  a  forest  road 
over  the  mountains  and  make  straight  for  Philadelphia — on 
foot,  if  our  chaise  could  not  take  us.  He  asked  me  about  the 
Indians  we  might  encounter,  and  I  told  him  we  had  nothing 
as  yet  to  fear  from  the  Lenape,  who  could  not  be  bound  by 
clan  ties  to  take  up  the  Cayugas'  quarrel  until  the  Mohawks 
rose.  , 

"  Well,"  said  Mount,  "  curse  them  all,  I  say.  One  mocca 
sin  looks  like  another,  and  all  redskins  smell  like  foxes.  I 
take  your  word  for  it  that  the  Lenape  are  afraid  to  breathe 
unless  the  Mohawks  give  them  leave,  so  I  hope  we  get  through 
without  a  war-yelp  in  our  ears." 

"  There's  the  Tuscaroras,"  said  Renard,  gloomily. 

It  was  true.  In  my  misery  and  torturing  fear  for  Silver 
Heels,  I  had  forgotten  the  Sixth  Nation,  bands  of  whom 
roamed  the  forests  north  of  the  \7irginia  line.  But  reflection 
quieted  apprehensions  concerning  the  Tuscaroras,  who  also 
must  first  take  council  with  our  Mohawks  before  drawing 
their  hatchets  in  a  Cayuga  quarrel. 

I  explained  this  to  Mount,  who  swore  a  great  deal  and 
shrugged  his  shoulders,  but  nevertheless  I  knew  he  was 
greatly  relieved. 

"  There's  a  wood  road  over  the  mountains,"  he  said.  "  Cade 
knows  it.  He  came  that  way  hunting  his  wife  at  Annapolis 
when  the  British  fleet  put  in.  Didn't  you,  Cade  ?" 

312 


CAKDIGAN 

The  Weasel  turned  in  his  saddle. 

"  Jack,"  he  said,  gently,  "  I  know  my  wife  is  dead.  We  will 
never  speak  of  her  any  more." 

Mount  was  silent.  Presently  he  jumped  to  the  ground  and 
came  walking  along  beside  my  horse,  one  hand  on  my  stirrup. 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  muttered,  under  his  breath — "  I  don't 
know  whether  that's  a  healthy  sign  or  not.  Ever  since  Cade 
saw  your  lady — Miss  Warren — he  keeps  telling  me  that  his 
wife  is  dead,  and  that  God  has  forgiven  her  and  has  told 
him  to  do  so,  too.  Somehow  he  has  changed.  Do  you  note 
it?  His  voice,  now,  is  different — like  a  gentleman's.  Some 
how,  he  makes  me  feel  lonely." 

I  was  scarcely  listening,  for,  just  ahead,  I  fancied  I  could 
see  a  signpost  which  must  mark  cross-roads.  After  a  mo 
ment  I  called  excitedly  to  Mount,  pointing  out  to  him  the 
tall  post  in  the  middle  of  the  road.  Behind  it  the  moon  was 
setting. 

"  Ay,"  he  said,  coolly,  "  that's  our  runway.  The  game  will 
cross  here  in  an  hour  or  so.  Sit  your  saddle,  Mr.  Cardigan; 
there's  time  to  whistle  the  devil's  jig  to  an  end  yet." 

But  I  was  out  of  my  saddle  and  priming  my  rifle  afresh 
before  he  could  finish. 

"  Poor  lad,"  he  said,  pityingly.  "  Lord,  but  you're  white  as 
a  cross-roads  ghost.  Shemmy,  take  the  chaise  south  till  you 
come  to  a  spring  brook  that  crosses  the  road;  it's  a  hundred 
yards  or  so.  Cover  the  coach-lamps  with  blankets  and  look 
to  the  horses  a  bit.  Cade,  I  guess  you  had  better  take  this 
side  of  the  road  with  me.  We  want  to  be  sure  o'  the  post 
boys.  Mr.  Cardigan,  try  to  shoot  the  driver  through  the 
head.  There's  too  much  risk  in  a  low  shot." 

"  For  God's  sake,  be  careful !"  I  begged  them.  "  Eemember 
the  lady  is  in  the  chaise.  Can't  you  kill  the  leading  horses — 
wouldn't  that  be  safer?" 

They  were  silent  for  a  while.  Presently  Mount  looked 
guiltily  at  me,  muttering  something  about  "  highwayman 
style,"  but  Eenard  shook  his  head. 

"  Well,"  began  Mount,  combatively,  "  it's  the  safest.  I  can 
stop  the  chaise  all  alone  without  a  shot  fired  if  you  wish." 

He  looked  at  me;  there  was  a  joyously  evil  light  in  his 
sparkling  eyes. 

313 


CARDIGAN 

"  This  is  familiar  ground  to  me,"  he  said,  impudently. 
"  Cade  and  I  stopped  Sir  Timerson  Chank  by  that  signpost." 

After  a  moment  he  added :  "  Coach  and  six ;  post-boys, 
coachman,  footmen,  and  guards — all  armed — eh,  Cade,  old 
spark?  Lord,  how  they  gaped  when  I  took  off  my  hat  and 
invited  Sir  Timerson  to  a  stroll!  Do  you  mind  that  fat 
coachman,  Cade? — and  all  the  post-boys  agape  and  cross 
eyed  with  looking  into  your  rifle-barrel  ?" 

"  Jack,"  I  groaned,  "  I  cannot  endure  delay.  Post  us,  for 
Heaven's  sake.  I'm  nigh  spent  with  fright  and  grief." 

"  There,  there !"  said  Mount,  affectionately  clapping  me 
on  the  shoulder.  "You  will  see  your  dear  lady  in  half  an 
hour,  lad.  No  fear  that  we  will  miss — eh,  Cade?  We  shoot 
straighter  for  our  friends'  than  for  our  own  lives." 

Then  he  bade  the  Weasel  take  his  stand  to  the  left,  and 
posted  me  to  the  right;  he  himself  sat  down  cross-legged 
under  the  signpost — a  strange,  monstrous  shape  squatting  in 
the  light  of  the  setting  moon. 

I  heard  the  click,  click,  of  the  closing  rifle-pans  in  the 
darkness,  and  for  the  twentieth  time  I  renewed  my  priming, 
fearing  the  night  air  might  flash  the  powder  in  the  pan. 

The  silence  weighed  me  down ;  awful  fear  shot  through  and 
through  me,  stabbing  my  swelling  heart  till  I  quivered  from 
head  to  toe.  Try  as  I  might  I  could  scarcely  crush  back  the 
dread  which  sometimes  chained  my  limbs,  sometimes  set  them 
trembling.  Suppose  that  after  all  they  had  gone  north,  risk 
ing  the  war-belt  for  a  dash  through  to  Crown  Gap?  This 
was  foolish,  and  I  knew  it,  for  they  were  bound  for  Williams- 
burg.  Yet  the  dreadful  chance  of  their  mistaking  the  route 
and  plunging  into  a  Cayuga  ambuscade  drove  me  almost 
frantic. 

I  thought  of  Silver  Heels,  while  straining  my  ears  for  the 
sound  of  the  chaise  that  bore  her.  Strange,  but  in  my  ex 
citement  I  found  myself  utterly  unable  to  recall  her  face  to 
mind.  Other  faces  crowded  it  out,  and  I  could  see  them 
plainly,  God  wot! — Dunmore,  falling  under  my  heavy  blow; 
Butler,  his  ghastly  visage  shattered,  writhing  with  my  clutch 
at  his  throat;  Greathouse,  as  he  lay  in  the  alley  with  the 
lanthorn's  light  on  his  bloated  face — enough!  Ay,  enough 
now,  for  in  my  ears  I  seemed  to  hear  the  crash  of  Butler's 

314 


DOWN    WE    WENT    TOGETHER 


CARDIGAN 

bones  as  I  had  dashed  his  accursed  body  to  the  floor,  and  I 
trembled  and  wondered  what  God  did  to  punish  those  who 
had  slain. 

Punish?  Perhaps  this  was  my  punishment  now — perhaps 
I  was  never  to  see  Silver  Heels  again!  Terrible  thoughts 
gathered  like  devils  and  clamoured  at  my  ears  for  a  hearing, 
and  I  lay  on  the  wet  grass,  listening  and  staring  into  the 
night,  while  my  dry  lips  burnt  with  the  fever  that  consumed 
me.  Around  me  the  darkness  seemed  to  be  rocking  like 
water;  my  head  swam  as  if  invisible  tides  were  ebbing 
through  it.  Again  and  again  I  seemed  to  be  falling,  and  I 
started  to  find  my  eyes  wide  open  and  burning  like  fire. 

Suddenly  a  faint,  far  sound  in  the  night  stilled  every 
pulse.  I  saw  Mount  slowly  rise  to  his  feet  and  step  into  the 
shadow  of  the  signpost.  The  whispering  call  of  a  whippoor- 
will  broke  out  from  the  bushes  where  Renard  lurked,  and  I 
stood  up,  icy  cold  but  calm,  eyes  fixed  on  the  darkness  which 
engulfed  the  road  ahead. 

Again  the  distant  sound  broke  out  in  the  stillness ;  it  came 
again,  clear  and  unmistakable.  Now  the  noise  of  rapidly 
galloping  horses  sounded  plainly ;  wheels  striking  stones  rang 
out  sharp  and  clear;  two  lights  sparkled  in  the  distance, 
growing  yellower  and  bigger,  while  the  road  beneath  flashed 
into  sight  in  the  advancing  radiance. 

On,  on  they  came,  horses  at  a  heavy  gallop,  chaise  swinging 
and  lurching,  right  into  the  cross-roads.  Then  a  blinding 
flash  and  crash  split  the  gloom,  echoed  by  another,  and  then 
a  third.  I  leaped  from  my  cover  into  a  frantic  mass  of 
struggling  horses  which  Renard  was  dragging  violently  into 
the  road-ditch,  while  Mount,  swinging  his  rifle,  knocked  down 
a  man  who  fired  at  him  and  beat  him  till  he  lay  still. 

A  shadowy  form  leaped  from  the  seat  in  front  and  ran 
across  my  path,  doubling  and  disappearing  into  the  dark 
ness  ;  another  slid  from  his  horse,  sinking  to  the  ground  with 
out  a  sound,  though  the  crazed  animal  kicked  and  trampled 
him  into  the  mud. 

As  I  sprang  to  the  chaise,  I  saw  the  driver  lurch  towards 
me,  and  I  aimed  a  blow  at  him  with  my  rifle,  but  he  pitched 
off  heavily,  landing  in  a  heap  at  my  feet,  face  downward  in 
the  grass.  Now  the  horses  swung  in  front  of  me,  plunging 

315 


CARDIGAN 

furiously  in  the  smashed  harness;  crash!  went  a  wheel;  the 
chaise  sank  forward;  a  horse  fell. 

"  Look  out !  Look  out !"  shouted  Mount,  behind  me,  as  I* 
ran  to  the  swaying  vehicle. 

"  Silver  Heels !"  I  cried,  tearing  at  the  door  of  the  chaise. 

For  a  second  I  saw  her  terrified  face  at  the  window;  her 
cry  rang  in  my  ears;  then  the  door  burst  open  and  Wraxall 
sprang  out,  burying  his  knife  in  my  neck. 

Down  we  went  together,  down,  down  into  a  smothering 
darkness  that  had  no  end,  yet  I  remember,  after  a  long,  long 
time,  looking  up  at  the  stars — or  perhaps  into  her  eyes. 

Then  my  body  seemed  to  sink  again,  silently  as  a  feather, 
and  my  soul  dropped  out,  falling  like  a  lost  star  into  an  end 
less  night. 


CHAPTEE   XVIII 

I  KNEW  afterwards — long,  long  afterwards — that  I  had 
been  stabbed  repeatedly;  how  many  times  is  now  of  little 
consequence,  although  I  have  sometimes  counted  the  white 
cicatrices  on  my  body,  tracing  each  with  wonder  that  I  had 
not  long  ago  done  with  this  life. 

For  that  matter,  I  was  regarded  as  already  ended  when 
they  tore  my  assailant  from  my  body  and  shattered  him  to 
death  with  their  hatchets  and  knives,  pistoling  him  again  and 
again  while  he  still  quivered  in  the  long  grass. 

As  for  me,  I  appeared  to  be  quite  dead,  and  whether  to  bury 
me  there  or  in  some  kinder  spot,  none  could  determine,  while 
the  dear  maid  I  loved  lay  senseless  in  Black  Betty's  arms. 

As  it  was  afterwards  told  to  me  in  the  saddest  days  of  my 
life,  so  I  tell  what  now  befell  the  rescued,  the  rescuers,  and 
that  scarcely  palpitating  body  o'  mine,  the  soul  of  which 
floated  on  the  dark  borderland  of  Death.  For  it  came  to 
happen  that  dawn,  lurking  behind  the  eastern  hills,  set  dull 
signals  of  fire  on  every  western  peak,  warning  Mount  and 
Renard  that  day  was  on  their  trail  to  bare  it  for  all  who 
chose  to  follow. 

My  senseless  sweetheart  they  bore  to  the  waiting  chaise, 
and,  my  body  still  retaining  some  warmth,  they  bore  that, 
too,  because  they  dared  not  bury  me  before  she  had  seen  me 
dead  with  her  own  eyes. 

All  that  day  they  rode  west  by  north,  climbing  the  vast  di 
vide,  halting  to  lie  perdu  when  their  keen  ears  heard  move 
ments  all  unseen,  pushing  on  to  tear  the  path  free  while  their 
axes  rang  out  among  the  windfalls.  Then,  when  the  western 
sun  sank  beyond  the  Ohio  into  the  sea  of  trees,  the  winds  of 
the  east  filled  their  nostrils  and  the  long  divide  had  been 
passed  at  last. 

That  night  my  dear  love  opened  her  eyes,  and  the  darkness 

317 


CAKDIGAN 

that  enchained  her  fell,  so  that  she  crept  to  my  feet  as  I  lay 
in  a  corner  of  the  chaise  and  laid  her  head  on  my  knees. 

Whether  she  thought  me  alive  or  dead  none  knew.  Betty 
had  bared  my  body  to  the  waist  and  washed  it.  For  a  corpse 
they  do  as  much.  Later,  without  hope,  Mount  brought  a 
pannikinful  of  blue-balsam  gum,  pricked  from  the  globules 
on  the  trunk,  and  when  Betty  had  once  more  washed  me,  they 
filled  the  long  gashes  with  the  balsam  and  closed  them  de 
cently,  strip  on  strip,  with  the  fine  cambric  shift  which  my 
sweetheart  tore  from  her  own  body. 

Later,  when  the  moon  was  coming  up,  they  carried  me 
lying  in  a  blanket,  my  sweetheart  walking  beside  me,  and 
her  silken  shoon  in  tatters  till  her  feet  bled  at  every  step, 
but  refused  to  go  back  to  the  chaise.  That  night  they  thought 
me  surely  dead  and  watched  without  sleep  lest  the  rigidity 
of  dissolution  surprise  me  ere  my  limbs  had  been  laid 
straight.  But  the  morning  found  me  as  I  was,  and  the  first 
shadow  of  night  revealed  no  change,  nor  was  I  dead  on  the 
next  morning,  nor  on  the  next,  nor  yet  the  next. 

A  still  Sabbath  in  the  forest,  passed  amid  the  sad  twilight 
of  the  trees,  gave  them  hope;  for  I  had  opened  my  eyes, 
though  I  saw  nothing.  But  that  night  Death  sat  at  my  right 
hand,  and  the  next  night  Death  cradled  my  head;  and  my 
dear  love  lay  at  my  feet  and  looked  Death  steadily  in  the 
eyes. 

The  fever  which  loosened  every  muscle  burned  fiercely  all 
night  long,  and  my  voice  broke  out  from  my  body  like  a 
demon  mocking  within  me.  A  few  of  the  Lenape,  roaming 
near,  followed  and  shot  at  us  towards  dawn,  driving  us  north 
into  the  forest,  where  the  chaise  was  abandoned,  the  traces 
cut,  and  the  horses  loaded  with  corn. 

North  and  south  the  runways  of  the  Long  House  pierced 
the  wilderness,  and  these  were  the  trails  they  followed,  the 
men  on  foot,  bearing  me  on  their  litter  of  blankets  and  bal 
sam-boughs,  the  women  crouching  on  the  sack-laden  horses. 

As  for  me,  I  lived  on  through  cold  and  heat,  storm  and 
stress,  seeing  nothing,  hearing  nothing,  dumb,  save  when  the 
demon  hidden  in  my  body  mocked  and  laughed  between  my 
blackened  lips.  That  demon  was  always  watching  things 
which  I  could  not  see,  peeping  out  through  my  eyes  into  hell. 

318 


CARDIGAN 

Hours  came  when  there  was  no  water,  and  the  demon  knew 
it  and  mouthed  and  cursed  between  my  shrinking  lips.  Then 
he  would  turn  on  me  and  tear  at  my  throat  and  gnaw  me  and 
thrust  his  claws  into  my  brain.  Sometimes  I  heard  his  low 
laughter,  for  though  I  could  neither  see  nor  hear  aught  in 
the  world,  I  could  hear  the  demon  sometimes,  and  feel  him  in 
my  body,  setting  fire  to  the  blood  till  it  boiled  like  the  water 
he  craved. 

At  night  he  often  stole  my  body  and  carried  it  where  the 
darkness  burnt  and  charred.  There  he  would  take  out  my 
bones,  one  by  one,  and  break  them  for  the  marrow  to  dry  hard. 

These  things  no  one  has  told  me.  I  remember  them  in 
sleep  sometimes,  sometimes  waking. 

What  I  have  heard  from  others  is  vague,  and  to  me  un 
real  as  a  painted  scene  in  a  picture  where  a  film  has  settled 
under  cobwebs.  I  hear  that  I  breathed  through  days  which 
I  never  saw,  that  I  opened  my  eyes  on  lands  which  are 
strange  to  me,  that  my  babble  broke  primeval  silences  which 
God  himself  had  sealed.  Nay,  not  I,  but  the  demon  mocked 
through  those  voiceless  voids  and  lost  ravines,  through  the 
still  twilight  of  the  noonday  forest,  through  midnight  sum 
mits  muffled  in  the  clouds.  But  only  I  know  that,  or  dream 
it  sometimes  when  I  ponder  on  my  end  and  on  that  fair  sal 
vation  which  my  father  finds  lately  in  Christ. 

Now,  my  dark  soul,  to  hidden  realms  addressed,  returned  to 
me  one  night,  and,  listening,  heard  the  demon  scratching  at 
my  bones.  Then,  weary  and  perplexed,  inside  my  body  crept 
my  soul  and  drew  the  lids  of  both  eyes  down,  so  that  we  might 
sleep  together  before  the  busy  demon  knew. 

Yet  I,  having  my  soul  again,  opened  my  eyes  to  find  a  star 
was  watching  me;  then,  content,  lay  closer  to  my  soul  and 
slept.  And  thus  the  demon  found  us,  and  so  fled  back  to  the 
sleepless  hell  from  whence  he  came. 

Sleeping,  I  smelled  lavender  in  the  forest,  and  I  thought 
the  wood  had  windows  where  a  sweet  wind  blew.  Truly, 
there  was  a  window  somewhere  near  me,  for  I  found  my  eyes 
had  opened  and  could  see  it  where  the  curtains  swayed  in 
the  sun. 

Hours  later  I  looked  again;  the  window  was  still  there, 
and  the  moon  beyond,  low  among  pines  whose  shapes  I  knew. 

319 


CARDIGAN 

Hours  came  and  faded  into  sunshine;  days  brought  bright 
spots  on  the  curtains;  night  brought  the  moon  and  the  tall 
pines.  Sweet-fern,  too,  I  smelled  sometimes,  and  I  heard  a 
soothing  monotone  of  familiar  sound  below  me. 

One  day  a  cock  crew  and  I  fell  a-trembling  all  alone,  I 
knew  not  why.  That  night  a  new  sound  woke  me,  and  I 
felt  the  presence  of  another  person.  Moonlight  silvered  the 
window  of  a  room  which  I  knew;  but  I  was  very  quiet  and 
waited  for  the  sun,  lest  the  phantoms  I  divined  should  trick 
me. 

Then  came  a  morning — perhaps  the  next,  but  I  am  not  sure 
— when  I  knew  I  was  in  a  bed  and  very  tired,  too  tired  to  see 
aught  but  the  sheets  and  the  sunlit  curtains  beyond.  That 
night,  however,  I  heard  rain  falling  on  a  roof  and  fell  asleep, 
watching  the  window  for  the  hidden  moon. 

When  I  first  recognized  the  room,  my  memory  served  me  a 
trick,  and  I  thought  of  the  school-room  below  where  the 
others  were  imprisoned — Silver  Heels,  Peter,  and  Esk.  Slyly 
content  to  doze  abed  here  in  Sir  William's  room,  I  under 
stood  that  I  must  have  been  lying  sick  a  long,  long  time,  but 
could  not  remember  when  I  had  fallen  ill.  One  thing  sure: 
I  did  not  mean  they  should  know  that  I  was  better;  I  closed 
my  eyes  when  I  felt  a  presence  near,  lying  still  as  a  mouse 
until  alone  again. 

Sometimes  my  thoughts  wandered  to  the  others  in  the 
school-room  with  Mr.  Yost,  for  I  did  not  remember  he  had 
been  scalped  by  the  Lenape,  and  I  pitied  Silver  Heels  and 
Esk  and  fat  Peter  a-thumbing  their  copy-books  and  breath 
ing  chalk-dust.  Faith,  I  was  well  off  in  the  great  white  bed, 
here  in  Sir  William's  room. 

I  could  see  his  fish-rods  on  the  wall,  looped  with  silk  lines 
and  scarlet  feather-flies;  his  hunting-horn,  too,  and  his  whip 
and  spurs  hanging  from  hooks  beneath  a  fox's-mask  and 
brush.  There  hung  his  fowling-pieces  above  the  mantel, 
pouch  and  horn  dangling  from  crossed  ramrods;  there  rose 
his  book-case  with  the  eared-owl  atop  and  the  Chinese  jar 
full  o'  pipes,  long  as  my  arm  and  twice  as  strong — a  conceit 
which  sent  a  weak  wave  of  mirth  through  my  body  I  could 
not  move. 

Soft!  They  are  coming  to  watch  me  now.  So  I  slyly 

320 


CARDIGAN 

close  my  eyes  till  they  go  away  or  give  me  the  drinks  they 
brew  to  make  me  sleep.  I  know  them;  were  I  minded  I 
might  gather  strength  to  spit  out  their  sense-stealing  stuffs. 
But  I  swallow  and  dream  and  wake  to  a  new  sun  or  to  mark 
the  waxing  moon,  now  near  its  full. 

Our  Doctor  Pierson  was  here  to-day  and  caught  me  watch 
ing  him.  They'll  soon  have  me  in  the  school-room  now, 
though  I  do  still  play  possum  all  I  can,  eating  my  gruel, 
which  a  strange  servant  brings,  and  pretending  not  to  see 
her.  Yet  I  am  wondering  why  the  maid  is  so  silent  and  that 
her  gown  is  so  dark  and  stiff. 

Later  that  day  I  saw  Colonel  Guy  Johnson  come  into  the 
room  and  look  at  me,  but  I  did  not  mean  he  should  think  me 
awake,  and  so  closed  my  eyes  and  lay  quiet.  When  Sir 
William  should  come,  however,  I  would  open  my  eyes,  for  I 
had  been  desiring  to  see  him  since  I  saw  his  rods  and  guns. 
It  fretted  me  at  times  that  he  neglected  me,  knowing  my 
love  for  him. 

Once,  as  I  lay  dozing,  Peter  crept  into  the  room  and  stared 
at  me.  He  had  grown  tall  and  gross  and  heavy-eyed,  so  that 
I  scarce  knew  him,  nor  had  he  a  trace  of  Sir  William  in  his 
slinking  carriage,  which  was  all  Mohawk,  and  the  worst 
Mohawk  at  that.  I  was  glad  when  he  ceased  thumbing  the 
bedposts  and  left  me. 

The  next  day  I  saw  Doctor  Pierson  beside  me  and  asked 
for  Sir  William.  He  said  that  Sir  William  was  away  and 
that  I  was  doing  well.  We  often  spoke  after  that,  and  he 
was  ever  busy  with  my  head,  which  no  longer  ached  save 
when  he  fingered  it. 

Then  one  night  I  awoke  with  a  cry  of  terror  and  found 
myself  sitting  upright,  bathed  in  chilly  sweat,  shouting  that 
the  Cayugas  were  abroad  and  that  I  must  hold  them  back  by 
the  throat  till  Sir  William  could  arrive  and  restrain  them. 

Lights  soon  moved  into  the  room;  I  saw  Doctor  Pierson 
and  Guy  Johnson,  but  the  dammed-up  floods  of  memory  had 
broken  loose  like  an  old  wound,  and  the  past  came  crowding 
upon  me  till  I  fell  back  on  the  pillows,  convulsed  and  gasp 
ing,  while  the  strong  hands  of  the  doctor  began  their  silent 
work,  tapping  head  and  body,  till  somebody  gave  me  a 
draught  and  I  drowsed  perdu. 
x  321 


CAKDIGAN 

Day  broke — the  bitterest  day  of  life  I  was  to  know.  I  felt 
it,  listening  to  the  rain ;  I  felt  it,  in  the  footsteps  that  passed 
my  door — footsteps  I  did  not  know.  Why  was  the  house  so 
silent?  Why  did  all  go  about  so  quietly,  dressed  in  black? 
Was  there  some  one  dead  in  the  house  below  ?  Where  was 
Silver  Heels  ?  Why  had  she  never  come  to  me  ?  How  came 
I  here?  Where  was  Jack  Mount  and  Cade  Renard?  And 
Sir  William,  where  was  he  that  he  came  not  near  me — me 
who  had  lain  sick  unto  death  in  his  service  and  for  his 
sake? 

Dread  numbed  me;  I  strove  to  call,  but  my  dumb  lips 
froze;  I  strove  to  rise,  and  found  my  body  wrecked  in  bed 
without  power,  without  sense,  a  helpless,  inert  thing  between 
two  sheets. 

Why  was  I  here?  Why  was  I  alive  if  aught  had  harmed 
Silver  Heels?  God!  And  I  safe  here  in  bed?  Where  was 
she?  Where  was  she?  Dead?  Why  do  they  not  tell  me? 
Why  do  they  not  kill  me  as  I  lie  here  if  I  have  returned 
without  her  ? 

I  must  have  cried  aloud  in  my  agony,  for  the  doctor  came 
running  and  leaned  over  me. 

"  Tell  me !  Tell  me !"  I  stammered.  "  Why  don't  you  tell 
me  ?"  and  strove  to  strike  him,  but  could  not  use  my  arms. 

"  Quiet,  quiet,"  he  said,  watching  me ;  "I  will  tell  you 
what  you  wish  to  know.  What  is  it  then,  my  poor  boy  ?" 

"  I— want— Felicity,"  I  blurted  out. 

"Felicity?"  he  repeated,  blankly.  "  Oh— Miss— ahem  I— 
Miss  Warren?" 

I  glared  at  him. 

"  Miss  Warren  has  gone  with  Sir  John  Johnson  to  Boston," 
he  said,  dryly. 

My  eyes  never  left  him. 

"  Is  that  why  you  cried  out  ?"  he  asked,  curiously.  "  Miss 
Warren  left  us  a  week  ago.  Had  you  only  known  her  she 
would  have  been  happy,  for  she  has  slept  for  weeks  on  the 
couch  yonder." 

"Why— why  did  she  go?" 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  the  reasons,"  he  said,  gravelyc 

"  WThen  will  she  return  ?" 

"  I  do  not  know." 

322 


CAKDIGAN 

With  a  strength  that  came  from  God  knows  where,  I 
dragged  myself  upright  and  caught  him  by  the  hand. 

"  She  is  dead !"  I  whispered.  "  She  is  dead,  and  all  in 
this  house  know  it  save  I  who  love  her !" 

A  strange  light  passed  over  the  doctor's  face ;  he  took  both 
my  hands  and  looked  at  me  carefully.  Then  he  smiled  and 
gently  forced  me  back  to  the  pillows. 

"  She  is  alive  and  well,"  he  said.  "  On  my  honour  as  a 
man,  lad,  I  set  your  heart  at  rest.  She  is  in  Boston,  and  I 
do  know  why,  but  I  may  not  meddle  with  what  concerns  this 
family,  save  in  sickness — or  death." 

I  watched  his  lips.  They  were  solemn  as  the  solemn  word 
he  uttered.  I  knew  death  had  been  in  the  house;  I  had  felt 
that  for  days.  I  waited,  watching  him. 

"  Poor  lad,"  he  said,  holding  my  hands. 

My  eyes  never  left  his. 

"  Ay,"  he  said,  softly,  "  his  last  word  was  your  name.  He 
loved  you  dearly,  lad." 

And  so  I  knew  that  Sir  William  was  dead. 


CHAPTER    XIX 

DAY  after  day  I  lay  in  my  bed,  staring  at  the  ceiling  till 
night  blotted  it  out.  Then,  stunned  and  exhausted,  I 
would  lie  in  the  dark,  crying  in  my  weakness,  whimpering 
for  those  I  loved  who  had  left  me  here  alone.  There  was 
no  strength  left  in  me,  body  or  mind;  and,  perhaps  for  that 
reason,  my  suffering  was  too  feeble  to  waste  what  was  left 
of  me,  for  I  had  not  even  the  strength  of  the  fretful  who  do 
damage  themselves  with  every  grimace. 

Certain  it  was  that  my  thinned  blood  was  growing  gradu 
ally  warmer,  and  its  currents  flowed  with  slightly  increasing 
vigour  day  by  day.  The  fever,  which  had  come  only  partly 
from  my  wounds,  had  doubtless  been  long  in  me,  and  had 
fermented  my  blood  as  the  opportunity  offered  when  "Wrax- 
all  nigh  drained  my  every  vein  with  his  butcher's  blade. 

The  emaciation  of  my  body  was  extreme,  my  limbs  were 
pithless  reeds,  my  skull  grinned  through  the  tensely  stretched 
skin,  and  my  eyes  were  enormous. 

Yet,  such  sturdy  fibre  have  I  inherited  from  my  soldier 
father  that  grief  itself  could  not  retard  the  mending  of  me, 
and  in  the  little  French  mirror  I  could  almost  see  my  sunk 
en  muscles  harden  and  grow  slowly  fuller.  Like  a  pear  in  a 
hot-frame,  I  was  plump  long  before  my  strength  could  aid  me 
or  my  shocked  senses  gather  to  take  counsel  for  the  future. 

The  dreadful  anguish  of  my  bereavement  came  only  at  in 
tervals,  succeeded  by  an  apathy  which  served  as  a  merciful 
relief.  But  most  I  thought  of  Silver  Heels,  and  why  she  had 
left  me  here,  and  when  she  might  return.  Keen  fear  lurked 
near  to  stab  me  when,  rousing  from  blank  slumber,  my  first 
thought  was  of  her.  Then  I  would  lie  and  wonder  why  she 
had  gone,  and  tell  myself  I  loved  her  above  all  else,  or  whim 
per  and  deem  her  cruel  to  leave  me. 

One  late  afternoon  the  doctor  came  with  a  dish  of  China 

324 


CAKDIGAN 

oranges,  which  I  found  relief  in  sucking,  my  gums  being  as 
yet  somewhat  hot  and  painful.  He  made  a  hole  in  an  orange 
and  I  sucked  it  awhile,  watching  him  meditatively.  He  wore 
crape  on  his  arm — the  arm  that  Quider  had  broken,  and 
which  now  he  could  not  bend  as  formerly. 

"  Why  does  not  my  Aunt  Molly  come  to  see  me  ?"  I  asked, 
quietly. 

"  Dear  lad,"  said  the  doctor,  raising  his  eyebrows,  "  did 
you  not  know  she  had  gone  to  Montreal  ?" 

"  How  should  I  know  it,"  I  asked,  "  when  you  tell  me  noth 
ing?" 

"  I  will  tell  you  what  I  am  permitted,"  he  answered, 
gently. 

"  Then  tell  me  when  my  cousin  Felicity  is  coming  back  ? 
Have  you  not  heard  from  Sir  John  Johnson?" 

"Yes — I  have  heard,"  replied  the  doctor,  cautiously. 

I  waited,  my  eyes  searching  his  face. 

"  Sir  John  returns  to-morrow,"  he  said. 

A  thrill  set  my  blood  leaping.  I  felt  the  warm  colour 
staining  my  pinched  face. 

"  To-morrow !"  I  repeated. 

The  doctor  regarded  me  very  gravely. 

"  Miss  Warren  will  remain  in  Boston,"  he  said. 

The  light  died  out  before  my  eyes ;  presently  I  closed  them. 

"How  long?"  I  asked. 

"  I  do  not  know." 

The  orange,  scarcely  tasted,  rolled  over  the  bed  and  fell 
on  the  floor.  I  heard  him  rise  to  pick  it  up. 

I  opened  my  eyes  and  looked  at  the  distant  pines  through 
the  window. 

"  Doctor,"  I  muttered,  "  I  am  heartsick  for  a  familiar  face. 
Where  are  the  people  who  have  lived  in  this  house?  It  is 
scarce  four  months  that  I  have  been  away,  yet  all  is  changed 
and  strange — new  servants  everywhere,  no  old,  friendly  faces 
— nay,  even  Peter  has  grown  so  gross  and  sullen  that  I  scarce 
knew  him.  Where  is  Esk?  Is  there  not  one  soul  un 
changed  ?" 

"Have  I  changed?"  he  asked. 

"  Yes — you  are  gray !  gray ! — and  smaller ;  and  you  stoop 
when  you  sit." 

325 


CARDIGAN 

After  a  moment  he  said :  "  These  are  times  to  age  all  men. 
Have  you  yourself  not  aged  in  these  five  months  ?  You  went 
away  a  fresh-faced  lad,  scarce  weaned  from  your  alley-taws 
and  the  chalky  ring!  You  return  a  man,  singed  already  by 
the  first  breath  of  a  fire  which  will  scorch  this  land  to  the 
bedded  rock!" 

Presently  I  asked,  "  Is  war  certain  ?" 

He  nodded,  looking  at  the  floor. 

"  And — and  the  Six  Nations  ?"  I  asked  again. 

"  On  our  side  surely,"  he  said,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  On  our  side?"  I  repeated. 

He  looked  at  me  suddenly,  stern  mouth  tightly  shut.  A 
cold  light  touched  his  gray  eyes  and  seemed  to  harden 
every  feature. 

"  When  I  say  '  our  side '  I  assume  you  to  be  loyal,  Mr. 
Cardigan,"  he  said,  curtly. 

The  change  in  his  shrewd,  kindly  face  amazed  me.  Was 
it  possible  for  old  friends  to  turn  so  quickly  ?  Was  this  com 
ing  strife  to  poison  the  world  with  its  impending  passions  ? 

"  If  you  have  become  tainted  with  rebel  heresy  since  you 
left  us,  thank  God  you  have  returned  in  time  to  purge  your 
mind,"  he  said,  sternly.  "  Sir  William  has  gone — Heaven 
rest  his  brave  soul! — but  Sir  John  is  alive  to  take  no  uncer 
tain  stand  in  the  face  of  this  wicked  rebellion  which  all  true 
loyal  hearts  must  face." 

I  looked  at  him  serenely.  Who  but  I  should  know  what 
Sir  William  had  thought  about  the  coming  strife.  Those 
sacred  confidences  of  the  past  had  cleared  my  mind,  and  made 
it  up  long  since.  Had  I  not,  in  Sir  William's  service,  braved 
death  for  the  sake  of  these  same  rebels?  I  understood  my 
mission  better  now.  I  had  gone  in  the  cause  of  humanity — 
a  cause  which  was  not  embraced  by  the  loyal  subjects  of  our 
King.  I  had  failed,  but  failure  had  brought  wisdom.  Never 
could  I  set  my  back  against  the  firm  rock  of  loyalty  to 
fight  for  a  name  that  now  meant  nothing  to  me.  I  had 
quenched  my  thirst  at  bitter  waters;  I  had  learned  that  men 
could  beggar  themselves  for  principle  and  die  for  a  tuppenny 
tax  with  pockets  full. 

"  Lad,"  said  the  doctor,  kindly,  "  the  two  rough  woodsmen 
who  brought  you  home  did  what  their  rude  skill  permitted 


CAKDIGAN 

to  save  your  life.  They  washed  your  wounds  and  bound 
them  with  balsam  and  linen;  they  bore  you  faithfully  for 
miles  and  miles  through  the  valley  of  death  itself.  But,  lad, 
they  could  not  have  saved  you  had  not  something  intervened 
between  you  and  that  keen  blade  which  searched  your  life 
to  slay  it!" 

He  rose  and  took  something  from  the  chest  of  drawers  in 
the  corner.  It  was  a  British  flag,  all  torn  and  hacked  and 
covered  with  black  stains. 

"  It  was  found  rolled  up  beneath  your  hunting-shirt,"  he 
said,  solemnly.  "  Look  on  it,  lad !  For  this  torn  flag,  which 
your  father  died  defending,  held  back  that  deadly  knife, 
shielding  the  vital  spark  beneath  its  folds.  A  hair's-breadth 
more  and  you  had  died  at  the  first  stab.  The  flag  was  your 
strength  and  shield:  let  it  become  your  salvation!  It  was 
your  father's  flag:  exalt  it!" 

He  spread  the  flag  reverently  upon  the  bed.  I  touched  its 
folds,  stiff  with  my  own  blood.  It  was  the  flag  of  Cresap's 
fort  which  I  had  taken,  seeing  it  abandoned  by  all. 

"I  shall  always  honour  it,"  I  said,  half  unconsciously. 

"  And  the  men  who  bear  it !"  he  added. 

"That  is  very  different,"  I  said,  wearily,  and  turned  my 
head  on  the  pillow. 

When  I  looked  again  he  was  folding  the  flag  and  placing 
it  in  the  chest  of  drawers,  smiling  quietly  to  himself.  Doubt 
less  he  thought  me  loyal  to  the  King  whose  armies  bore  the 
flag  my  father  died  for.  But  I  was  too  tired  to  argue  further. 

"  There  is  one  man  I  would  like  to  see,"  I  said,  "  and 
that  is  Mr.  Duncan.  Will  you  send  to  the  guard-house  and 
beg  him  to  come  to  me,  doctor?" 

"Ay,  that  I  will,  lad,"  he  said,  cheerily,  picking  up  his 
hat  and  case  of  drugs.  "  And,  by-the-way,  your  regiment 
of  Border  Horse  will  be  here  in  a  month.  You  will  doubt 
less  be  content  to  see  the  gallant  troopers  in  whose  ranks  you 
will  one  day  serve,  please  God." 

"  Perhaps,"  I  said,  closing  my  eyes. 

I  must  have  fallen  into  a  light  sleep,  for  when  I  unclosed 
my  eyes  I  saw  Mr.  Duncan  beside  me,  looking  down  into  my 
face.  I  smiled  and  raised  one  hand,  and  he  took  it  gently 
in  both  of  his  strong,  sun-browned  hands. 

327 


CARDIGAN 

"Well,  well,  well,"  he  muttered,  smiling,  while  the  tears 
stood  in  his  pleasant  eyes;  "here  is  our  soldier  home  again — 
that  same  soldier  whom  I  last  saw  in  the  guard-house,  hav 
ing  his  poll  clipped  by  honest  Wraxall,  a  la  coureur-de-bois 
^eh?" 

I  motioned  feebly  for  him  to  find  a  chair  beside  my  bed, 
and  he  sat  down,  still  holding  my  hand  in  his. 

"  Now,"  I  said,  "  explain  to  me  all  that  has  happened.  The 
doctor  tells  me  what  I  ask,  but  I  have  had  little  inclination 
to  hear  much.  I  like  you,  Mr.  Duncan.  Tell  me  everything." 

"  You  mean — about  Sir  William  ?"  he  asked,  gently. 

"  Yes — but  that  last  of  all,"  I  muttered,  choking. 

After  a  silence  he  straightened  up,  unhooked  his  sword, 
and  laid  it  against  the  wall.  Then,  settling  comfortably  back 
in  his  chair,  he  clasped  his  hands  over  his  white  gaiters  and 
looked  at  me. 

"  You  must  know,"  he  said,  "  that  Colonel  Guy  John 
son  is  now  superintendent  of  Indian  affairs  in  North  Amer 
ica  for  his  Majesty.  He  has  appointed  as  deputies  Colonel 
Claus  and  Colonel  John  Butler — " 

"  Who  ?"  I  exclaimed. 

"  Colonel  Butler,"  repeated  Mr.  Duncan ;  "  you  remember 
him,  don't  you?" 

"  Yes,  I  remember  him,"  I  replied ;  "  where  is  he  ?" 

"  He  and  Joseph  Brant  are  organizing  the  loyalists  and 
Indians  north  of  us,"  said  Mr.  Duncan,  innocently.  "  This 
border  war  in  Virginia  has  set  the  Six  Nations  afire.  Many 
of  our  Mohawks  have  slipped  away  to  join  Logan  and  So- 
wanowane  against  this  fellow  Cresap  who  murdered  Logan's 
children;  the  others  are  restless  and  sullen.  There  was  but 
one  man  in  the  world  who  could  have  controlled  them — " 

He  paused. 

"  I  know  it,"  said  I.     "  You  mean  Sir  William." 

"  Ay,  Mr.  Cardigan,  I  mean  Sir  William.  Well,  well, 
there  is  no  help  now.  It  is  Sir  John  Johnson's  policy  to 
win  over  the  savages  to  our  side;  but  I  often  think  Sir 
William  knew  best  how  to  manage  them.  It  will  be  dreadful, 
dreadful!  I  for  one  wish  no  such  allies  as  are  gathering 
north  of  us  under  Joseph  Brant  and  Colonel  Butler." 

"  Why  do  you  not  say  as  much  to  Sir  John  ?"  I  asked. 

328 


CARDIGAN 

"I?  What  weight  would  my  opinion  carry?  I  have  said 
often  to  those  who  ask  me  that  I  would  give  all  I  possess 
to  see  the  savages  remain  neutral  in  this  coming  strife." 

"  Do  you  also  believe  it  is  coming  ?" 

"  Surely,  surely,"  he  said,  lifting  his  hand  solemnly.  "  Mr. 
Cardigan,  you  have  been  away,  and  have  also  been  too 
ill  to  know  what  passes  at  our  very  doors.  You  are  igno 
rant  of  the  passion  which  has  divided  every  town,  village,  and 
hamlet  in  Tryon  County — ay,  the  passion  which  has  turned 
neighbours  to  bitterest  foes — the  passion  which  has  turned 
kinship  to  hatred — which  sets  brother  against  brother,  son 
against  father! 

"  Our  village  of  Johnstown  yonder  seethes  and  simmers 
with  Tory  against  Whig,  loyalist  against  rebel.  Houses  are 
barricaded;  arms  stored,  stolen,  and  smuggled;  seditious 
words  uttered,  traitorous  songs  sung,  insults  flung  in  the 
faces  of  the  King's  soldiers.  We  of  the  Royal  Americans 
receive  the  grossest  epithets;  curses  and  threats  are  flung 
in  our  teeth;  sentries  on  guard  are  mocked  and  reviled;  offi 
cers  jeered  at  in  tavern  and  street. 

"  I  do  not  believe  such  fierceness  would  betray  itself  if  the 
question  here  were  but  the  old  Boston  grievance — the  ancient 
protest  against  taxing  people  without  the  people's  consent. 
No,  it  is  not  the  wrangle  between  Parliament  and  colonies 
that  has  brought  the  devil's  own  confusion  into  Tryon  Coun 
ty;  it  is  the  terrible  possibility  that  one  or  the  other  side 
may  let  loose  the  savages.  We  of  Tryon  County  know  what 
that  means.  Small  wonder  then,  I  say,  that  the  rebels  curse 
us  for  swine  and  dogs  and  devils  incarnate  because  we  are 
slowly  gaining  the  good-will  of  the  Six  Nations." 

He  wiped  his  face  with  a  laced  hanker  and  pressed  his 
temples,  frowning. 

"  Yet,"  he  said,  "  the  rebels,  too,  would  doubtless  use  the 
savages  against  us  if  they  could  win  them  over.  Sir  John 
says  so.  That  is  why  he  sent  Thayendanegea  and  Colonel 
Butler  to  recruit  in  the  north.  They  say  that  Captain  Walter 
Butler  is  with  Cresap.  I  don't  know;  I  have  not  seen  him 
in  months." 

"  I  know,"  said  I,  quietly. 

"Doubtless  you  met  him  then  at  Cresap's  camp?" 

329 


CAKDIGAN 

"  Doubtless." 

Mr.  Duncan  waited  a  moment,  then  laughed. 

"  You  were  ever  a  man  to  keep  your  own  counsel,"  he  said. 

"  What  have  you  heard  from  Cresap's  men  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Nothing  save  that  the  war  is  a  fierce  one.  An  express 
came  in  yesterday  with  news  that  the  Cayugas  had  been  ter 
ribly  whipped  by  the  backwoodsmen  under  Andy  Lewis,  some 
where  near  the  Great  Kanawha.  The  express  rider  got  it 
from  some  of  Cresap's  men,  but  it  may  not  be  true." 

After  a  silence  I  asked  him  what  month  of  the  year  it  now 
was.  I  had  noticed  yellow  leaves  outside. 

"  October,"  he  said,  pityingly ;  "  did  you  not  know  it  ?" 

I  tried  to  realize  the  space  of  time  which  had  been  wiped 
out  from  my  memory. 

"When  did  Sir  William— die ?"  I  muttered,  painfully. 

Mr.  Duncan  looked  at  me  with  tears  in  his  eyes. 

"  On  Monday,  the  llth  of  July." 

"  Tell  me — all,"  I  motioned,  with  quivering  lips. 

"It  is  history,"  he  said,  simply.  "I  will  tell  you  what 
I  heard  and  what  I  witnessed. 

"  On  the  1st  of  July  we  received  news  of  the  murder  of 
Bald  Eagle,  a  friendly  Delaware  chief.  Rumour  had  it  that 
one  of  my  Lord  Dunmore's  agents  had  slain  the  old  man,  but 
that,  of  course,  is  preposterous.  It  is  hard  to  sift  truth  out 
of  rumours.  Why,  the  wildest  statements  were  openly  made 
in  some  taverns  that  young  Walter  Butler  had  murdered  the 
old  man.  What  reason  could  Walter  Butler  have  to  slay  a 
friendly  chief  in  Pennsylvania?" 

"  Go  on,"  I  said,  grimly. 

"  Well,  then,  this  murder  was  committed  while  the  poor 
old  man  was  sitting  in  his  canoe  on  one  of  the  streams  near 
Fort  Pitt.  After  tearing  the  scalp  from  the  old  man  the 
murderer  set  him  afloat  in  his  canoe.  The  ghastly  progress 
of  the  dead  was  seen  by  Indians  and  whites,  and  the  news, 
following  the  report  of  the  outrage  on  Logan  by  that  creat 
ure  Daniel  Greathouse,  roused  the  Six  Nations  to  fury. 

"  You  know  that  even  after  the  Logan  outrage  Sir  William 
had  held  back  the  warriors  of  the  Long  House ;  but  this  fresh 
crime  drove  them  frantic.  They  might  still  have  held  off  had 
not  Bald  Eagle  been  scalped,  but  you  know,  Mr.  Cardigan, 

330 


CAKDIGAN 

that  the  Six  Nations  always  regard  the  scalping  of  a  mur 
dered  person  as  a  national  act,  not  an  individual  one,  and  al 
ways  accept  it  as  a  declaration  of  war." 

"  I  know,"  I  said. 

"  The  sachems  of  the  Long  House,"  continued  Mr.  Duncan, 
"  immediately  notified  Sir  William  that  they  desired  to  see 
him  without  delay.  When  you  think,  Mr.  Cardigan,  that 
the  murders  of  Logan's  children  and  of  Bald  Eagle  touched 
every  clan  tie  in  the  Six  Nations,  nothing  could  prove  more 
clearly  the  marvellous  influence  of  Sir  William  over  the 
savages  than  the  fact  that  their  first  impulse  was  not  to  seize 
hatchet  and  knife  and  begin  an  indiscriminate  butchery  of 
our  people,  but  to  solicit  a  conference  with  Sir  William,  so 
that  they  might  state  their  wrongs  calmly  and  ask  his  advice. 
Lord!  Lord!  A  great  man  died  in  last  July;  and  who  can 
take  his  place?" 

Again  he  wiped  his  brow  and  clasped  his  gaitered  knees 
with  his  hands. 

"  In  two  days,"  he  resumed,  "  two  hundred  Onondagas 
came  here,  with  intelligence  that  four  hundred  more  were  on 
their  way.  Then  they  came  in  hordes — Mohawks,  Senecas, 
Cayugas,  and  Oneidas.  From  morning  till  night  Sir  Will 
iam  was  engaged  in  talking  with  them,  persuading  and 
promising  and  exerting  himself  tirelessly  to  hold  the  gather 
ing  tempest  in  check. 

"  He  was  even  then  far  from  well ;  his  old  trouble  had  re 
turned;  he  could  scarcely  drag  himself  up  here  to  this  room 
when  night  came.  Yet  he  said  to  me,  after  an  exhausting 
conference  with  the  Oneidas,  '  Mr.  Duncan,  I  have  daily  to 
combat  with  thousands  of  white  men  who,  by  their  avarice, 
cruelty,  or  indiscretions,  are  constantly  counteracting  all  my 
judicious  measures  with  the  Indians.  It  is  not  the  Indians 
I  blame.  I  shall  persevere:  the  occasion  requires  it;  and  I 
shall  never  be  without  hope  till  I  find  myself  without  that 
influence  which  has  never  yet  forsaken  me/ 

" '  That  influence  is  built  up  on  your  personal  honour,'  I 
said ;  '  it  can  never  forsake  you.' 

"  He  smiled — you  know  his  rare  smile,  Mr.  Cardigan — " 

Mr.  Duncan  almost  broke  down;  my  eyes  were  dry  and 
throbbing. 

331 


CARDIGAN 

"  On  the  Yth  of  July,"  he  resumed,  "  we  had  a  thousand 
Indians  assembled  here  at  the  Hall.  The  sachems  and  chiefs 
were  earnestly  pleading  for  the  congress.  Sir  William  was 
sick  abed  and  suffering  pitifully,  but  he  rose  and  refused 
to  listen  to  Doctor  Pierson,  saying  that  the  congress  should 
never  be  delayed  by  anything  but  his  own  death. 

"  The  weather  was  frightfully  hot ;  nearly  the  whole  of  the 
first  day  was  occupied  by  the  speech  of  Senhowane,  a  Seneca 
chief,  who  made  out  a  bitter  case  against  the  white  people 
of  Cresap's  command.  A  Cayuga  war-chief  followed  the 
Seneca,  speaking  until  the  moon  rose. 

"  The  next  day  was  the  Sabbath.  Sir  William  lay  abed  all 
day,  unable  to  see  for  the  frightful  pains  in  his  head.  Yet 
the  next  day,  at  half-past  nine  in  the  morning,  Sir  William 
was  at  the  fire,  belts  in  hand. 

"  Never,  neve^,  Mr.  Cardigan,  had  any  one  heard  him  speak 
with  such  eloquence.  Sick  unto  death  as  he  was,  he  stood 
there  in  the  burning  July  sun,  hour  after  hour,  in  the  cause 
of  peace.  He  spoke  with  all  the  fire  and  vivacity  of  youth; 
his  words  held  the  savages'  grave  and  strained  attention  until 
the  end." 

Mr.  Duncan  paused,  staring  at  space  as  though  to  fix  that 
last  scene  in  his  mind  forever. 

"  I  was  commanding  the  escort,"  he  said.  "  My  men  sa 
luted  as  the  Indians  left  the  congress.  When  the  last  chief 
had  disappeared,  I  saw  that  Sir  William  was  in  distress,  and 
ran  to  him.  He  lurched  forward  into  my  arms.  I  held  him 
a  moment.  He  tried  to  speak,  but  all  he  could  say  was,  '  Tell 
Michael  I  am  proud — of — him,'  and  then  fell  back  full 
weight.  We  got  him  to  the  Hall  and  laid  him  on  the  library 
couch.  A  gillie  rode  breakneck  for  Sir  John,  who  was  at 
the  old  fort  nine  miles  away.  Mistress  Molly  had  gone 
to  Schenectady;  there  remained  no  one  of  his  own  kin 
here." 

Mr.  Duncan  leaned  forward,  with  his  face  in  his  hands. 

"Sir  John  came  too  late,"  he  said;  "Sir  William  died 
utterly  alone." 

As  I  lay  there  I  could  hear  the  robins  chirping  outside, 
just  as  I  had  so  often  heard  them  from  the  school-room. 
Could  this  still  be  the  same  summer?  Years  and  years 


CARDIGAN 

seemed  to  have  slipped  away  in  these  brief  months  between 
May  and  October. 

"  Where  is  he  buried?"  I  asked. 

"  In  the  vault  under  the  stone  church  he  built  in  the  village. 
When  you  can  walk — we  will  go." 

"  I  shall  walk  very  soon  now,"  said  I. 

After  a  moment  I  asked  who  had  succeeded  Sir  William. 

"  In  title  and  estate  Sir  John  succeeds  him,"  said  Mr. 
Duncan,  "but  the  King  has  conferred  the  intendancy  of 
Indian  affairs  on  Colonel  Guy  Johnson." 

"  Is  he  as  close  a  friend  as  ever  of  Colonel  Butler  and 
Joseph?" 

"  Quite.     Joseph  Brant  is  a  special  deputy,  too." 

"  Then  God  save  our  country,"  I  replied,  calmly,  and 
closed  my  eyes. 

Lying  there,  thinking,  I  saw  for  a  moment  into  that  red 
horror  called  the  future — which  now,  thank  God,  is  already 
the  past. 

"  When  Sir  John  returns  from  Boston  you  will  hear  the 
will  read,"  said  Mr.  Duncan. 
•   "  When  does  he  return  ?"  I  asked,  opening  my  eyes. 

"  To-morrow,  we  hope." 

"Why  did  he  go?" 

"  I  do  not  know,"  said  Mr.  Duncan,  frankly. 

"Why  did  he  take  Miss  Warren?" 

"  I'm  sure  I  do  not  know,"  he  answered. 

"Will  she  return  with  him?" 

"  I  cannot  say — but  I  suppose  she  will,"  replied  Mr.  Dun 
can,  looking  curiously  at  me. 

"  The  doctor  says  she  will  not  return  with  Sir  John." 

"Ah!" 

"Why?" 

"  Lord,  lad,  I  don't  know !"  he  exclaimed,  amused. 

"  Did  Miss  Warren  see  me  while  I  was  ill  ?" 

"Ay,  that  she  did,"  he  cried.  "  She  never  left  you;  they 
could  not  drag  her  away  to  eat  enough  to  keep  a  bird  alive. 
She  hung  over  you,  she  followed  the  doctor,  holding  to  his 
sleeve  and  asking  questions  till  the  good  man  nigh  lost  his 
senses.  And  all  the  time  Sir  John  was  fuming  and  im 
patient  to  be  off  to  Boston,  but  Miss  Warren  would  not  go 

333 


CARDIGAN 

until  the  doctor  was  able  to  promise  on  his  sacred  honour 
that  you  were  not  only  out  of  danger,  but  that  you  would 
recover  completely  in  mind  and  body." 

"And  then?"  I  muttered. 

"  Why,  then  Sir  John  would  no  longer  be  denied,  and  she 
must  needs  journey  with  him  to  Boston.  I  know  that  she 
herself  did  not  understand  why  she  was  going,  except  that 
some  legal  affairs  required  her  presence." 

"  And  she  left  no  word  for  me  ?" 

"  None  with  me.  I  heard  her  ask  Sir  John  how  soon  you 
would  be  able  to  read  if  she  wrote  you,  but  Sir  John  shook 
his  head  without  reply.  Then  she  asked  the  doctor,  and  I 
think  he  told  Miss  Warren  she  might  write  in  October  if 
she  remained  in  Boston  as  long  as  that.  So,  doubtless,  the 
express  is  already  galloping  up  the  old  post-road  with  your 
letter,  Mr.  Cardigan." 

Presently — for  I  was  becoming  very  tired — I  asked  about 
the  two  forest-runners  who  had  brought  me  hither,  not  men 
tioning  their  names  for  prudence  sake. 

"  I  don't  know  where  they  are,"  said  Mr.  Duncan,  rising  to 
buckle  on  his  sword.  "  The  little,  mild-spoken  man  disap 
peared  the  day  that  Sir  John  and  Miss  Warren  left  for  Bos 
ton.  The  other,  the  big,  swaggering  fellow,  abandoned  by  his 
running-mate,  seemed  astonished,  and  hunted  about  the  vil 
lage  for  a  week,  swearing  that  there  was  foul  play  somewhere, 
and  that  his  comrade  would  never  willingly  have  deserted 
him.  Then  our  magistrate,  Squire  Bullock,  was  stopped 
and  robbed  on  the  King's  highway — ay,  and  roundly  cursed 
for  a  Tory  thief — by  this  same  graceless  giant  in  buckskin 
who  brought  you  here.  They  sought  for  him,  but  you  know 
how  those  fellows  travel.  He  may  be  in  Quebec  now,  for 
aught  I  know — the  impudent  rascal." 

After  a  moment  I  said,  "  Miss  Warren,  your  say,  cared  for 
me  while  I  lay  ill  ?" 

"  Like  a  mother — or  fond  sister." 

I  closed  my  eyes  partly. 

He  looked  down  at  me  and  pressed  my  hand. 

"  I  have  tired  you,"  he  said,  gently. 

"  No,  you  have  given  me  life,"  I  answered,  smiling. 

334 


CHAPTEE   XX 

LONG  before  Sir  John  returned,  or,  indeed,  long  before 
we  had  any  word  from  him,  I  was  dressed  and  making 
hourly  essays  at  walking,  first  in  the  house,  then  through 
the  door-yard  to  the  guard-house,  where  I  would  sit  in  the 
hot  sun  and  breathe  the  full-throated  October  winds.  Keen 
and  sweet  as  apple-wine,  the  air  I  drank  warmed  and  excited 
me;  my  eyes  grew  clear  and  strong,  my  lean  cheeks  filled, 
my  wasted  limbs  once  more  began  to  bear  me  with  the  old- 
time  lightness  and  delight. 

Too,  I  found  myself  at  times  nosing  the  wind  with  half- 
closed  eyes,  like  a  young  hound  too  long  kennelled,  or  some 
times  listening,  yet  lost  in  reverie,  as  hounds  listen  on  winter 
nights,  drowsing  by  the  dull  fire. 

A  hundred  little  zephyrs  that  knew  me  whispered  to  me 
through  open  windows.  At  night  I  caught  the  faint  echo 
of  the  breezes'  laughter  under  the  eaves;  sometimes  I  heard 
the  big  wind  stirring  the  dark  pines,  so  far  away  that  none 
but  I  could  hear  it  playing  with  the  baby  breezes. 

They  were  little  friendly  breezes,  the  spirits  of  spirits,  with 
dainty,  familiar  voices,  too  delicate  to  frighten  the  birds 
they  sometimes  gossiped  with.  Even  the  slate-gray  deer- 
mouse,  with  his  white  belly,  feared  not  my  little  friends,  the 
winds ;  for  oft  I  heard  him,  in  the  creamy  October  moon 
light,  tuning  his  tiny  elfin  song  to  the  night  wind's  fluting. 

On  warm,  spicy  days  Mr.  Duncan  and  I  would  seek  the 
stone  church,  sitting  silent  for  hours  in  the  purple  and  crim 
son  rays  of  the  stained  window,  watching  the  golden  dust- 
bands  slanting  on  the  tomb. 

The  resentment  of  bitter  grief  had  died  out  in  my  heart; 
sorrow  had  been  purged  of  selfishness;  I  felt  the  calm  pres 
ence  of  the  dead  at  my  elbow  where'er  I  went.  Strength 
and  quiet  came  to  me  in  voiceless  communion;  high  resolve, 

335 


CARDIGAN 

patience,  and  hope  were  bred  within  me  under  the  serene 
glow  of  those  jewelled  panes.  On  the  gray-stone  slab  at  my 
feet,  dreaming,  I  read  the  story  of  a  noble  life,  "  Keep  faith 
with  all  men,"  and  here,  in  silence,  I  sought  to  read  and 
understand  the  changeless  laws  which  shelter  souls  and  mark 
the  mile-stones  of  a  blameless  life. 

When  the  southwest  sun  hung  gilding  the  clover,  over 
miles  of  upland  I  passed,  as  I  had  roamed  with  him,  twisting 
the  bronzing  sweet-fern  from  its  woody  stem,  touching  the 
silken  milk-weed  to  set  free  its  floss,  halting,  breast-deep  in 
crimsoning  sumach,  to  mark  the  headlong,  whirling  covey 
drive  through  the  thorns  into  the  purple  dusk. 

His  hounds  bayed  from  their  kennels;  there  was  no  one 
to  cast  them  free;  and  the  red  fox  throttled  the  fowls  by 
moonlight;  and  the  lynx  squalled  in  the  swamp.  His  horses 
trampled  the  stables  till  the  oak  floors,  reverberating, 
hummed  thunder;  there  was  no  one  to  bit  and  bridle  them; 
the  moorland  clover  swayed  untrodden  in  the  wind,  and  the 
dun  stag  stamped  the  crag. 

Night  and  day  the  river  rushed  to  the  sea;  night  and  day 
the  brooks  prattled  to  their  pebbles,  the  slim  salmon  lay  in 
the  pools,  the  lithe  trout  stemmed  the  gravel-rifts;  but  never 
a  line  whistled  in  the  silence,  and  never  a  scarlet  feather-fly 
sailed  on  the  waters  among  the  autumn  leaves. 

Yet,  though  land  and  water  were  lonely  without  him,  I 
was  not  lonely,  for  he  walked  with  me  always  over  the  land 
he  had  known,  and  his  voice  was  in  the  soft,  mild  winds  he 
loved  so  well. 

With  the  memory  of  Silver  Heels  it  was  different.  Every 
scented  stem  of. sweet-fern  was  redolent  of  her;  every  grass- 
blade  quivered  for  her;  the  winds  called  her  all  day  long; 
the  brooks  whispered,  "  Where  is  Silver  Pleels  ?" 

Through  our  old  play-grounds,  in  the  orchard,  on  the 
stairs,  through  the  darkened  school-room  I  followed,  haunt 
ing  the  vanished  footsteps — gay,  light,  flying  feet  of  the  chiW 
I  had  loved  so  long,  unknowing. 

Her  stocks  stood  outside  the  nursery  door;  the  brass  key 
was  on  the  nail.  In  her  dim  chamber  hung  the  scent  of 
lavender,  while  through  the  half-closed  shutters  a  faint 
freshness  crept,  stirring  the  ghostly  curtains  of  her  bed. 

336 


CARDIGAN 

Wistfulness,  doubt,  tenderness,  and  sadness  came  and 
went  like  sun-spots  on  an  April  day.  I  waited  with  delicious 
dread  for  her  return;  I  fretted,  doubted,  hoped,  all  in  the 
same  quick  heart-beat,  which  was  not  all  pain.  Only  that 
ghost  of  happiness  which  men  call  hope  I  knew  in  those  long 
autumn  days  alone  among  the  haunts  of  varied  yesterdays. 

When  the  golden  month  drew  near  its  end,  amid  the 
dropping  glory  of  the  maple-leaves,  one  sun-drenched  morn 
ing  I  awoke  to  hear  the  drums  and  pipes  skirling  the  march 
of  "  Tryon  County  Men  ": 

"  Hark  to  the  horn  in  the  dawn  o'  the  morn ! 
Rally,  whoever  ye  be; 

For  it's  down  Deny  Down,  and  it's  over  the  lea, 
And  it's  saddle  and  bridle  as  sure  as  you're  born! 
Scattered  and  trampled  and  torn  is  the  corn 
As  we  ride  to  the  war  in  the  morning; 
Down  Derry  Down ! 
Down  Derry  Down ! 
For  we  ride  to  the  war  in  the  morning!" 

"  Officer  o'  the  guard !  Turn  out  the  guard !"  bawled  the 
sentry  under  my  window.  As  I  looked  out  the  drums  came 
crashing  past,  and  behind  them  tramped  the  Highlanders, 
kilts  and  sporrans  swinging,  firelocks  aslant  and  claymore 
blades  shining  in  the  sun. 

It  was  the  new  regiment  organized  by  Sir  John,  picked 
men  all,  and  fierce  partisans  of  the  King,  weeded  from  the 
militia  regiment  lately  disbanded  at  Johnstown  by  order  of 
Governor  Tryon. 

Behind  them,  fifes  squealing  the  "  Huron,"  came  the  reor 
ganized  battalion  of  yeomanry,  now  stripped  clean  of  rebel 
suspects,  and  rechristened  "  Johnson's  Greens " ;  stout, 
brawny  yokels  with  hats  askew  and  the  green  cockade  veiled 
in  crape,  their  hunting-shirts  caped  triple  and  fringed  deep 
in  green  wool,  their  powder-horns  tasselled  and  chased  in 
silver  gilt. 

I  watched  them  swinging  north  into  the  purple  hills  for 
their  month's  training,  the  new  order  having  arrived  some 
eight  days  since  from  Governor  Tryon. 

Leaning  there  in  the  casement,  wrapped  in  my  dressing- 
gown,  I  saw  Colonel  Guy  Johnson  ride  up  to  the  block-house, 
Y  337 


CARDIGAN 

dismount,  and  call  out  Mr.  Duncan.  Then  began  a  great 
bustle  among  the  soldiers,  for  what  reason  I  did  not  under 
stand,  until  a  knocking  at  my  door  brought  a  gillie  with 
Colonel  Guy  Johnson's  compliments,  and  would  I  dress  in 
my  uniform  to  receive  Sir  John,  who  was  expected  for  break 
fast. 

My  heart  began  to  beat  madly;  could  it  be  possible  that 
Sir  John  had  brought  Silver  Heels,  after  all?  Doctor  Pier- 
son  had  said  that  she  would  remain  for  the  present  in  Bos 
ton;  but  perhaps  Doctor  Pierson  did  not  know  everything 
that  went  on  in  the  world. 

To  crush  back  hope  from  sheer  dread  of  disappointment 
was  a  thankless  task  and  too  much  for  me.  I  dressed  in  my 
red  uniform,  tied  my  silver  gorget,  hung  my  sword,  and 
drew  on  my  spurred  boots.  Standing  by  the  mirror,  pensive, 
I  thought  of  my  delight  in  these  same  clothes  when  first  I 
wore  them  for  Sir  William.  Alas!  alas!  The  gilt  lace 
dulled  under  my  eyes  as  I  looked;  the  gorget  tarnished;  the 
spurs  rang  sadly  in  the  silence.  I  twisted  a  strip  of  crape  in 
my  hilt,  shook  out  the  black  badge  on  my  sleeve,  and  went 
down-stairs,  very  soberly,  in  the  livery  of  the  King  I  must 
one  day  desert.  Perhaps  I  was  now  wearing  it  for  the  last 
time.  Well,  such  things  matter  nothing  now;  true  hearts 
can  beat  as  freely  under  a  buckskin  shirt  as  beneath  the 
jewelled  sashes  of  the  great. 

As  I  reached  the  porch  Mr.  Duncan  came  hurrying  past, 
buttoning  his  gloves. 

"  Sir  John  is  in  the  village,"  he  said,  returning  my  salute, 
"and  he  has  an  escort  of  your  regiment  at  his  back.  My 
varlets  yonder  need  pipe-clay,  but  I  dare  not  risk  delay." 

"  Where  is  Colonel  Guy  ?"  I  asked,  but  at  that  moment  he 
came  out  of  the  stable  in  full  uniform,  and  Mr.  Duncan  and 
I  joined  him  at  salute.  He  barely  noticed  me,  as  usual,  but 
gave  his  orders  to  Mr.  Duncan  and  then  looked  across  the 
fields  towards  the  village. 

"  Is  Felicity,  with  Sir  John  ?"  I  inquired. 

"  No,"  he  answered,  without  turning. 

My  throat  swelled  and  my  mouth  quivered.  Where  was 
she,  then  ?  What  did  all  this  mean  ? 

"  By-the-by,"  observed  Colonel  Guy,  carelessly,  "  Sir  John 

338 


CARDIGAN 

has  chosen  another  aide-de-camp  in  your  place.  You,  of 
course,  will  join  your  regiment  at  Albany." 

I  looked  at  him  calmly,  but  he  was  again  gazing  out  across 
the  fields.  So  Sir  John,  who  had  never  cared  about  me,  had 
rid  himself  of  me.  This  brought  matters  to  a  climax.  Truly 
enough,  I  was  now  wearing  my  red  uniform  for  the  last  time. 

I  looked  across  the  yellowing  fields  where,  on  the  high 
way,  a  troop  of  horse  had  come  up  over  the  hill  and  were  now 
galloping  hither  in  a  veil  of  sparkling  dust.  I  watched  them 
indifferently;  the  drums  at  the  guard-house  were  sounding, 
beating  the  major-general's  salute  of  two  ruffles ;  the  horse 
men  swept  up  past  the  ranks  of  presented  firelocks  and  halted 
before  the  Hall. 

And  now  I  saw  Sir  John  in  full  uniform  of  his  rank, 
badged  with  mourning,  yet  all  a-glitter  with  medals  and 
orders,  slowly  dismount,  while  gillie  Bareshanks  held  his 
stirrup.  Alas!  alas!  that  he  must  be  known  by  men  as  the 
son  of  his  great  father! — this  cold,  slow  man,  with  distrust 
ful  eyes  and  a  mouth  which  to  see  was  to  watch.  His  very 
voice  seemed  to  sound  a  warning  in  its  emotionless  monot 
ony  ;  his  lips  said,  "  On  guard,  lest  we  trick  you  unawares." 

Sir  John  greeted  Colonel  Guy,  holding  his  hand  and 
dropping  into  low  conversation  for  a  few  moments.  Then, 
as  I  gave  him  the  officers'  salute,  he  rendered  it  and  offered 
his  hand,  asking  me  how  I  did. 

I  had  the  honour  to  report  myself  quite  recovered,  and  in 
turn  inquired  concerning  his  own  health,  the  health  of  Aunt 
Molly,  and  of  Silver  Heels ;  to  which  he  replied  that  Mistress 
Molly  with  Esk  and  Peter  was  in  Quebec;  that  Felicity  was 
well ;  that  he  himself  suffered  somewhat  from  indigestion,  but 
was  otherwise  in  possession  of  perfect  health. 

He  then  presented  me  to  several  officers  of  my  own  regi 
ment,  among  them  a  very  young  cornet,  who  smiled  at  me 
in  such  friendly  fashion  that  my  lonely  heart  was  warm 
towards  him.  His  name  was  Rodman  Girdwood,  and  he 
swaggered  when  he  walked;  but  so  frankly  did  he  ruffle  it 
that  I  could  not  choose  but  like  him  and  smile  indulgence 
on  his  guileless  self-satisfaction. 

"  They  don't  like  me,"  he  said,  confidentially,  as  I  took 
him  to  my  own  chamber  so  that  he  might  remove  the  stains 

339 


CARDIGAN 

of  travel.  "  They  don't  like  me  because  I  talk  too  much  at 
mess.  I  say  what  I  think,  and  I  say  it  loud,  sir." 

"  What  do  you  say — loud  ?"  I  asked,  smiling. 

"  Oh,  everything.  I  say  it's  a  damned  shame  to  send 
British  troops  into  Boston ;  I  say  it's  a  doubly  damned  shame 
to  close  the  port  and  starve  the  poor ;  I  say  that  Tommy  Gage 
is  in  a  dirty  business,  and  I,  for  one,  hope  the  Boston  people 
will  hold  on  until  the  British  Parliament  find  their  senses. 
Oh,  I  don't  care  who  hears  me!"  he  said,  throwing  off  his 
coat  and  sword  and  plunging  into  the  water-basin. 

His  servant  came  to  the  door  for  orders,  but  Girdwood  bade 
him  let  him  alone  and  seek  a  pot  o'  beer  in  the  kitchen. 

"  I  trust  I  have  not  shocked  your  loyalty,  Mr.  Cardigan," 
he  said,  using  a  towel  vigorously. 

"  Oh  no,"  I  laughed. 

"  I  don't  mean  to  be  discourteous,"  he  added,  smoothing 
his  ruffled  lace;  "  but  sometimes  I  feel  as  though  I  must 
stand  up  on  a  hill  and  shout  across  the  ocean  to  Parliament, 
*  Don't  make  fools  of  yourselves  ' !" 

I  was  laughing  so  heartily  that  he  turned  around  in 
humorous  surprise. 

"  I'm  afraid  you  are  one  of  those  disrespectful  patriots," 
he  said.  "  I  never  heard  a  Tory  laugh  at  anything  I  said. 
Come,  sir,  pray  repeat  '  God  save  the  King ' !" 

"  God  save  " — we  began  together,  then  ended — "  our  coun 
try!" 

I  looked  at  him  gravely.  He,  too,  had  grown  serious. 
Presently  he  held  out  his  hand.  I  took  it  in  silence. 

"  Well,  well,"  he  said,  "  I  had  little  thought  of  finding  a 
comrade  in  our  new  cornet." 

"  Nor  I  in  the  Border  Horse,"  said  I,  quietly. 

He  turned  to  the  mirror  and  began  retying  his  queue  rib 
bon.  After  a  twist  or  two  the  smile  came  back  to  his  lips 
and  the  jauntiness  to  his  carriage. 

"  It's  all  in  a  lifetime,"  he  said.  "  Lord,  but  I'm  hungry, 
Cardigan !  Honest  Abraham,  I  haven't  broken  a  crust  since 
we  left  Schenectady !" 

"Come  on,  then,"  I  said;  "we  subalterns  must  not  keep 
our  superiors;  you  know." 

"  They  wouldn't  wait  for  us,  anyway,"  he  said,  following 

340 


CARDIGAN 

me  down-stairs  to  the  breakfast-room,  into  which  already  Sir 
John  and  his  suite  were  crowding. 

The  breakfast  was  short  and  dreary.  Sir  John's  unsympa 
thetic  presence  had  never  yet  warmed  even  his  familiars  to 
gayety.  Those  who  were  under  his  orders  found  him  severe 
and  unbending;  his  equals,  I  think,  distrusted  him;  but  his 
superiors  saw  in  him  a  latent  energy  which  they  believed 
might  be  worth  their  control  some  day,  and  so  studied  him 
carefully,  prepared  for  anything  from  fidelity  to  indifference, 
and  even,  perhaps,  treachery. 

Benning,  major  in  the  Border  Horse,  strove  indeed  to  liven 
the  breakfast  with  liberal  libations  and  jests,  neither  of  which 
were  particularly  encouraged  by  Sir  John.  As  for  Colone) 
Guy  Johnson,  he  brooded  in  his  dish,  a  strange,  dark,  silent 
man  who  had  never,  to  my  knowledge,  shown  a  single  human 
impulse  for  either  good  or  evil.  He  was  a  faultless  executor 
of  duty  intrusted,  obeying  to  the  letter,  yet  never  offering 
suggestions;  a  scrupulously  clean  man  in  speech  and  habit; 
a  blameless  husband,  and  an  inoffensive  neighbour.  But 
that  was  all,  and  I  had  sooner  had  a  stone  idol  as  neighbour 
than  Colonel  Guy  Johnson. 

The  living  Johnsons  seemed  to  be  alike  in  nature.  I  do 
not  even  now  understand  why  I  thought  so,  but  I  sometimes 
believed  that  they  had,  deep  in  them,  something  of  that 
sombre  ferocity  which  burned  in  the  Butlers.  Yet  to  me 
they  had  exhibited  nothing  but  the  most  passionless  reserve. 

When  the  gloomy  breakfast  was  ended,  Colonel  Guy  John 
son  conducted  his  guests  to  the  porch,  where  they  made  ready 
for  the  inspection  of  our  two  stone  block-houses  and  the  new 
artillery  in  the  barracks,  sent  recently  by  Governor  Tryon 
at  Sir  John's  request. 

Supposing  I  was  to  follow,  as  I  no  longer  remained  aide- 
de-camp  to  the  major-general,  I  started  off  with  Rodman 
Girdwood,  but  was  recalled  by  a  soldier,  who  reported  that  Sir 
John  awaited  me  in  the  library. 

Sir  John  was  sitting  at  the  great  oak  table  as  I  entered, 
and  he  motioned  me  to  a  seat  opposite.  He  held  in  his  hands 
a  bundle  of  papers,  which  he  slowly  turned  over  and  over  in 
his  fingers. 

He  first  informed  me  that  he  had  selected  another  aide- 

341 


CARDIGAN 

de-camp,  not  because  he  expected  to  find  me  unsatisfactory, 
but  because  it  was  most  desirable  that  young,  inexperienced 
officers  should  join  the  colours  as  soon  as  possible.  He  said 
that  the  times  were  troublous  and  uncertain;  that  sedition 
was  abroad  in  the  land;  that  young  men  needed  the  counsel 
of  loyal  authority,  and  the  example  and  discipline  of  military 
life.  He  expected  me,  he  said,  to  return  to  Albany  with  the 
squadron  which  had  served  him  as  escort. 

To  which  I  made  no  reply. 

He  then  spoke  of  the  death  of  his  father,  of  the  responsi 
bilities  of  his  own  position,  and  of  his  claim  on  me  for 
obedience.  He  spoke  of  my  mission  to  Cresap  and  the 
Cayugas  as  a  mistake  in  policy;  and  I  burned  to  hear  him 
criticise  Sir  William's  acts.  He  asked  me  for  my  report,  and 
I  gave  it  to  him,  relating  every  circumstance  of  my  meeting 
with  the  Cayugas,  my  peril,  my  rescue,  the  fight  at  Cresap's 
fort,  the  treachery  of  Dunmore,  Greathouse,  Connolly,  and 
the  others. 

He  frowned,  listening  with  lowered  eyes. 

I  told  him  of  the  insult  offered  our  family  by  Dunmore;  I 
told  how  Silver  Heels  escaped.  Then  I  related  every  circum 
stance  in  my  relations  with  Walter  Butler,  from  my  first  open 
quarrel  with  him  here  at  the  Hall  to  his  deadly  assault  on 
me  while  in  discharge  of  my  mission,  and  finally  how  he  had 
fallen  under  my  fury  in  Dunmore's  presence. 

Sir  John's  face  was  expressionless.  He  deplored  the  mat 
ters  mentioned,  saying  that  loyal  men  must  stand  together 
and  not  exterminate  each  other.  He  pointed  out  that  Dun- 
more  was  the  royal  Governor  of  Virginia;  that  an  alliance 
with  Felicity  was  an  honour  we  were  most  unwise  to  refuse; 
he  regretted  the  quarrel  between  such  a  zealous  loyalist  as 
Walter  Butler  and  myself,  but  coolly  informed  me  that  he 
had  heard  from  Butler,  and  that  he  was  recovering  slowly 
from  the  breaking  of  an  arm,  collar-bone,  and  many  ribs. 

This  calm  acknowledgment  that  Sir  John  and  my  deadly 
enemy  were  in  such  intimacy  set  my  blood  boiling.  His 
amazing  complacency  towards  these  men  after  the  insults 
offered  his  own  kin  took  my  breath. 

He  said  that  his  policy  in  regard  to  the  Cayuga  rising  was 
not  the  policy  of  Sir  William.  His  efforts  were  directed 

342 


CARDIGAN 

towards  the  solid  assembling  of  all  men,  so  that  the  loyal 
might  in  the  hour  of  danger  present  an  unbroken  front  to 
rebellion  and  discontent.  It  was,  he  said,  my  duty  to  lay 
aside  all  rancour  against  Lord  Dunmore  and  Captain  Butler. 
This  was  not  the  time  to  settle  personal  differences.  Later, 
he  could  see  no  objection  to  my  calling  out  Walter  Butler  or 
demanding  reparation  from  Lord  Dunmore,  if  I  found  it 
necessary. 

I  was  slowly  beginning  to  hate  Sir  John. 

I  therefore  told  him  how  we  had  done  to  death  the  wretch 
Greathouse;  how  I  had  shot  the  driver  of  the  coach,  who  was 
the  unknown  man  who  had  tasted  his  own  hatchet  in  the 
forest. 

Sir  John  informed  me  that  I  and  my  party  had  also  slain 
Wraxall  and  Toby  Tice,  and  that  Captain  Murdy  alone  had 
escaped  our  fury. 

I  was  contented  to  hear  it;  contented  to  hear,  too,  that 
Walter  Butler  lived;  for,  though  no  man  on  earth  deserved 
death  more  than  he,  I  had  not  wished  to  slay  any  man  in 
such  a  manner.  I  could  wait,  for  I  never  doubted  that  he 
must  one  day  die  by  my  hand,  though  not  the  kind  of  death 
that  he  had  escaped  so  narrowly. 

Sir  John  now  spoke  of  the  will  left  by  Sir  William.  He 
held  a  copy  in  his  hand  and  opened  it. 

"  You  know,"  he  said,  "  that  your  fortune  is  not  consider 
able,  though  my  father  has  invested  it  most  fortunately.  The 
income  is  ample  for  a  young  man,  and  on  the  decease  of  your 
uncle,  Sir  Terence,  you  will  come  into  his  title  and  estate  in 
Ireland.  This  should  make  you  wealthy.  However,  Sir 
William  saw  fit  to  provide  for  you  further." 

He  turned  the  pages  of  the  document  slowly,  frowning. 

"  Where  is  my  own  money  ?"  I  asked. 

Sir  John  passed  me  a  letter,  sealed,  which  he  said  would 
recommend  me  to  the  lawyer  in  Albany  who  administered  my 
fortune  until  I  became  of  legal  age.  Then  he  resumed  his 
study  of  the  will. 

"  Read  from  the  beginning,"  I  said.  I  had  a  curious  feel 
ing  that  it  was  indecent  to  ignore  anything  Sir  William  had 
written,  in  order  to  hurry  to  that  clause  relating  only  to  my 
own  selfish  profit. 

343 


CARDIGAN 

Sir  John  glanced  at  me  across  the  table,  then  read  aloud, 
in  his  cold,  passionless  voice: 

"  In  the  name  of  God,  Amen !  I,  Sir  William  Johnson,  of  John 
son  Hall,  in  the  County  of  Tryon  and  Province  of  New  York, 
Bart.,  being  of  sound  and  disposing  mind,  memory,  and  under 
standing,  do  make,  publish,  and  declare  this  to  be  my  last  Will 
and  Testament  in  manner  and  form  following: 

"  First  and  principally,  I  resign  my  soul  to  the  great  and  mer 
ciful  God  who  made  it,  in  hopes,  through  the  merits  alone  of  my 
blessed  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  to  have  a  joyful  resur 
rection  to  life  eternal — " 

He  stopped  abruptly,  saying  that  he  saw  no  necessity  for 
reading  all  that,  and  turned  directly  to  the  clause  concern 
ing  me.  Then  he  read : 

"  And  as  to  the  worldly  and  temporal  estate  which  God  was 
pleased  to  endow  me  with,  I  devise,  bequeath,  and  dispose  of  in 
the  following  manner:  Imprimis.  I  will,  order  and  direct  that 
all  such  just  debts  as  I  may  owe,  at  the  time  of  my  decease,  to  be 
paid  by  my  son  Sir  John  Johnson,  Baronet.  .  .  . 

"  Item.  To  my  dearly  beloved  kinsman  and  ward,  Michael 
Cardigan,  I  give  and  bequeath  the  sum  of  three  thousand  pounds, 
York  currency,  to  him  or  the  survivor  of  him.  Also  my  own  horse 
Warlock." 

Sir  John  turned  several  pages,  found  another  clause,  and 
read: 

"  To  the  aforesaid  Michael  Cardigan  I  devise  and  bequeath 
that  lot  of  land  which  I  purchased  from  Jelles  Fonda,  in  the 
Kennyetto  Patent;  also  two  hundred  acres  of  land  adjoining 
thereto,  being  part  of  the  Perth  Patent,  to  be  laid  out  in  a 
compact  body  between  the  sugar  bush  and  the  Kennyetto  Creek; 
also  four  thousand  acres  in  the  Royal  Grant,  now  called  Kings- 
land,  next  to  the  Mohawk  River,  where  is  the  best  place  for 
salmon  fishing;  also  that  strip  of  land  from  the  falls  or  carry 
ing-place  to  Lot  No.  1,  opposite  to  the  hunting-lodge  of  Colonel 
John  Butler,  where  woodcocks,  snipes,  and  wild  ducks  are  accus 
tomed  to  be  shot  by  me,  within  the  limits  and  including  all  the 
game-land  I  bought  from  Peter  Weaver." 

Sir  John  folded  the  paper  and  handed  it  to  me,  saying,  "  It 
is  strange  that  Sir  William  thought  fit  to  bequeath  you  such 
a  vast  property." 

"  What  provision  was  made  for  Felicity  ?"  I  asked,  quietly. 

344 


CAKDIGAN 

"  She  might  have  had  three  thousand  pounds  and  a  thou 
sand  acres  adjoining  yours  in  the  Kenneyetto  Patent,"  re 
plied  Sir  John,  coldly.  "  But  under  present  circumstances — 
ahem — she  receives  nothing." 

I  thought  a  moment.  In  the  hallway  I  heard  the  officers 
returning  with  Colonel  Guy  Johnson  from  their  inspection. 

"Where  is  Felicity?"  I  askod,  suddenly. 

He  looked  up  in  displeasure  at  my  brusqueness,  but  did  not 
reply.  I  repeated  the  question. 

"  She  is  near  Boston,"  he  said,  with  a  frown  of  annoyance. 
"  Her  lawyer  is  Thomas  Foxcrof t  in  Queen  Street." 

"  When  will  she  return  here  ?" 

"  She  will  not  return." 

"  What !"  I  cried,  springing  to  my  feet. 

Sir  John  eyed  me  sullenly. 

"  I  beg  you  will  conduct  in  moderation,"  he  said. 

"  Then  tell  me  what  you  have  done  with  my  cousin  Fe 
licity!" 

"  She  is  not  your  cousin,  or  any  kin  to  you  or  to  us,"  he 
said,  coldly.  "  I  have  had  some  correspondence  with  Sir 
Peter  Warren,  which,  I  may  say,  does  not  concern  you. 
Enough  that  Felicity  is  not  his  niece,  nor  the  daughter  of 
his  dead  brother,  nor  any  kin  whatever  to  him,  to  us,  or  to 
you.  Further  than  that  I  have  nothing  to  say,  except  that 
the  young  woman  is  now  with  her  own  kin,  and  will  remain 
there,  because  it  is  her  proper  legal  residence.  Better  for 
you,"  he  added,  grimly,  "  and  better  for  us  if  you  had  not 
meddled  with  what  did  not  concern  you,  and  had  allowed 
Lord  Dunmore  to  take  her — " 

"  Dunmore !    Wed  Felicity !"  I  burst  out. 

"Wed?  Who  said  he  meant  to  wed  her?  He  did  not;  he 
knew  from  Sir  Peter  Warren  who  Felicity  is;  he  knew  it 
before  we  did,  and  informed  Sir  Peter.  Wed  her?  Ay,  with 
the  left  hand,  perhaps." 

I  rose,  trembling  in  every  limb. 

"  The  damned  scoundrel !"  I  stammered.  "  The  damned, 
foul  -  fleshed  scoundrel !  God !  Had  I  known  —  had  I 
dreamed — " 

"  You  will  control  your  temper  here  at  least,"  he  said, 
pointing  to  the  card-room,  where  Colonel  Guy  Johnson  and 

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CARDIGAN 

the  Border  officers  were  staring  at  us  through  the  open 
doors. 

"  No,  I  will  not !"  I  cried.  "  I  care  not  who  hears  me ! 
And  I  say  shame  on  you  for  your  indecency !  Shame  on  you 
for  your  callous,  merciless  judgment,  when  you,  God  knows, 
require  the  mercy  you  refuse  to  others,  you  damned  hypo 
crite!" 

"Silence!"  he  said,  turning  livid.  "You  leave  this  house 
to-night  for  your  regiment." 

"  I  leave  it  in  no  service  which  tolerates  such  blackguards 
as  Dunmore  or  such  bloodless  criminals  as  you!"  I  retorted, 
tearing  my  sword  from  my  belt.  Then  I  stepped  forward, 
and,  looking  him  straight  in  the  eyes,  slammed  my  sheathed 
sword  down  on  the  table  before  him. 

"  You,  your  Governors,  and  your  King  are  too  poor  to  buy 
the  sword  I  would  wear,"  I  said,  between  my  teeth. 

"  Are  you  mad  ?"  he  muttered,  staring. 

I  laughed. 

"  Not  I,"  I  said,  gayly,  "  but  the  pack  o'  fools  who  curse 
my  country  with  their  folly,  like  that  withered,  half-witted 
Governor  of  Virginia,  like  that  pompous  ass  in  Boston,  like 
you  yourself,  sir,  though  God  knows  it  chokes  to  say  it  of 
your  father's  son !" 

"  Major  Benning,"  cried  Sir  John,  "  you  will  place  that 
lunatic  under  arrest!" 

My  major  started,  then  took  a  step  towards  me. 

"  Try  it !"  said  I,  all  the  evil  in  me  on  fire.  "  Go  to  the 
devil,  sir! — where  your  own  business  is  doubtless  stewing. 
Hands  off,  sir ! — or  I  throw  you  through  the  window !" 

"  Good  Gad !"  muttered  Benning.    "  The  lad's  gone  stark!" 

"  But  I  still  shoot  straight,"  I  said,  picking  up  Sir  Will 
iam's  favourite  rifle  and  handling  it  most  carelessly. 

"  Mind  what  you  are  about !"  cried  Sir  John,  furiously. 
"  That  piece  is  charged!" 

"  I  am  happy  to  know  it,"  I  replied,  dropping  it  into  the 
hollow  of  my  arm  so  he  could  look  down  the  black  muzzle. 

And  I  walked  out  of  the  room  and  up  the  stairs  to  my  own 
little  chamber,  there  to  remove  from  my  body  the  livery  of 
my  King,  never  again  to  resume  it. 

I  spent  the  day  in  packing  together  all  articles  which  were 

346 


CAKDIGAN 

rightly  mine,  bought  with  my  own  money  or  given  me  by  Sir 
William :  my  books,  my  prints,  some  flutes  which  I  could  not 
play,  my  rods  and  fowling-pieces,  all  my  clothing,  my  paper 
and  Faber  pencil — all  gifts  from  Sir  William. 

I  wished  also  for  a  memento  from  his  room,  something  the 
more  valuable  to  me  because  valueless  to  others,  and  I  found 
his  ivory  cane  to  take  and  his  leather  book,  the  same  being  a 
treatise  on  fishing  by  a  certain  Isaac  Walton,  who,  if  he  tells 
the  truth,  knew  little  about  the  habits  of  trout  and  salmon, 
and  did  write  much  foolishness  in  a  pretty  manner. 

However,  Sir  William  loved  to  read  from  Isaac  Walton 
his  book,  and  I  have  oft  heard  him  singing  lustily  the  catches 
and  ballads  which  do  abound  in  that  same  book — and  to  its 
detriment,  in  my  opinion. 

Laden  with  these,  and  also  with  a  scrap  of  sleeve-ribbon, 
all  I  could  find  in  Silver  Heels's  chamber,  I  did  make  two 
bundles  of  my  property,  done  neatly  in  blankets.  Then,  to 
empty  my  purse  and  strong-box  and  fill  my  money-belt,  plac 
ing  there  also  my  letter  of  recommendation  to  the  lawyer, 
Peter  Weaver,  Esquire,  who  administered  my  investments. 

Gillie  Bareshanks  I  hailed  from  the  orchard,  bidding  him 
saddle  Warlock  with  a  dragoon's  saddle,  and  place  forage  for 
three  days  in  the  saddle  -  bags,  dropping  at  the  same  time 
my  riding-coat  from  the  window,  to  be  rolled  and  buckled 
across  the  pommel. 

I  dressed  me  once  more  in  new  buckskins,  with  Mohawk 
moccasins  and  leggings,  this  to  save  the  wear  of  travel  on 
my  better  clothing,  of  which  I  did  take  but  one  suit,  the 
same  being  my  silver-gray  velvet,  cut  with  French  elegance, 
and  hat  to  match. 

Now,  as  I  looked  from  the  windows,  I  could  see  Sir  John, 
Colonel  Guy,  and  their  guests,  mounting  to  ride  to  the  vil 
lage,  doubtless  in  order  that  they  should  be  shown  Sir  Will 
iam's  last  resting-place.  So  I,  being  free  of  the  house,  wan 
dered  through  it  from  cellar  to  attic,  because  it  was  to  be 
my  last  hour  in  the  only  home  I  had  ever  known. 

Mercifully,  though  the  heart  be  full  to  breaking,  youth 
can  never  fully  realize  that  the  old  order  has  ended  forever; 
else  why,  even  in  bitterest  sorrow,  glimmers  that  thread  of 
light  through  darkness  which  we  call  the  last  ray  of  hope? 

347 


CAKDIGAN 

It  never  leaves  us ;  men  say  it  flees,  but  it  goes  out  only  with 
the  life  that  nourished  it. 

Deep,  deep  in  my  heart  I  felt  that  I  should  look  upon 
these  familiar  walls  once  more,  when,  in  happier  days,  my 
dear  love  and  I  should  return  to  the  hills  we  must  always 
love  for  Sir  William's  sake. 

And  so  I  strayed  through  the  silent,  sunny  rooms,  touching 
the  walls  with  aching  heart,  and  bidding  each  threshold 
adieu.  Ghosts  walked  with  me  through  the  dimmed  sun 
beams;  far  in  the  house,  faintest  familiar  sounds  seemed  to 
stir,  half -heard  whispers,  the  echo  of  laughter,  a  dear  voice 
calling  from  above.  Over  these  floors  Silver  Heels's  light 
feet  had  passed,  brushing  every  plank,  perhaps  the  very  spot 
I  stood  on.  Hark!  Over  and  over  again  that  fading  echo 
filled  my  ears  for  an  instant,  as  though  somebody  had  just 
spoken  in  a  distant  room. 

Passing  the  stocks  where  Silver  Heels  had  so  often  sat  to 
pout  and  embroider,  or  battle  with  us  to  protect  her  helpless 
feet  from  torment,  I  came  to  the  school-room  once  more. 

Apparently  nobody  had  entered  it  since  I  had  written  my 
verses  on  Eurydice — so  long,  so  long  ago.  There  were  traces 
of  the  verses  still — smeared  from  my  struggle  with  Silver 
Heels  when  I  had  written : 

"  Silver  Heels  toes  in  like  ducks." 

Heaven  save  the  libel ! 

And  here  on  a  bench  was  my  tattered  mythology,  thumbed 
and  bitten,  and  the  fly-leaf  soaked  with  ink  where  Peter  had 
made  a  scene  of  battle  in  Indian  fashion,  the  English  being 
scalped  on  all  sides  by  himself,  Esk,  and  Joseph  Brant,  all 
labelled. 

I  took  the  book,  turning  to  where  I  had  written  my  be 
quest  to  Silver  Heels  on  the  inside  cover,  and  then  carried  it 
to  my  chamber,  there  to  add  this  last  link  of  childhood  to  the 
others  in  my  packets. 

I  do  not  exactly  understand  why,  but  I  also  carried  with 
me  the  flag  I  had  taken  from  Cresap's  fort,  and  rolled  it  up 
in  my  uniform  which  was  given  me  by  Sir  William. 

Neither  flag  nor  uniform  were  any  longer  mine,  yet  I  ever 

348 


CAKDIGAN 

have  found  it  impossible  to  neglect  that  which  I  once  loved. 
So  I  rolled  the  bunting  and  my  scarlet  clothes  with  my  best 
silver-gray  velvet,  and  tied  all  together. 

When  young  Bareshanks  came  to  announce  that  Warlock 
waited,  I  bade  him  carry  my  two  packets  down,  following, 
myself,  with  Sir  William's  long  rifle,  and  otherwise  com 
pletely  equipped  with  hatchet,  knife,  powder  and  ball,  flint 
and  tinder,  and  a  small  stew-pan. 

With  these  Warlock  was  laden  like  a  pack-horse,  leaving 
room  in  the  saddle  for  me.  Bareshanks  held  my  stirrup;  I 
mounted,  shook  hands  with  him,  not  daring  to  attempt  a 
word,  and,  with  tears  blinding  me,  turned  my  horse's  head 
south  on  the  Albany  post-road. 

Mr.  Duncan,  standing  near  the  stables,  gazed  at  me  in 
astonishment. 

"Ho!"  he  called  out.  "More  wood-running,  Mr.  Cardi 
gan?  Faith,  the  scalp-trade  must  be  paying  in  these  hum 
ming  days  of  peace !" 

I  tried  to  smile  and  gave  him  my  hand. 

"  It's  good-bye  forever,"  I  said,  choking.  "  I  cannot  use  the 
same  roof  that  shelters  my  kinsman,  Sir  John  Johnson." 

He  looked  at  me  very  gravely,  asking  me  where  I  meant  to 
So. 

"  To  Boston,"  I  replied.  "  I  have  affairs  with  one  Thomas 
Foxcroft." 

There  was  a  silence,  he  still  holding  my  hand  as  though 
to  draw  me  back. 

"  Why  to  Boston  ?"  he  repeated,  gently. 

"  To  wed  Miss  Warren,"  I  replied,  looking  him  in  the  eyes. 

He  stared,  then  caught  my  hand  in  both  of  his. 

"  God  bless  her !"  he  said,  again  and  again.  "  I  give  you 
joy,  lad!  She's  the  sweetest  of  them  all  in  County  Tryon!" 

"  And  in  all  the  world  beside!"  I  muttered,  huskily. 

And  so  rode  on. 


CHAPTEE    XXI 

MY  journey  to  Albany  was  slow,  easy,  and  uneventful;  I 
spared  Warlock  because  of  his  added  burdens,  though 
he  would  gladly  have  galloped  the  entire  distance,  for  the 
poor  fellow  was  bitterly  ashamed  of  playing  pack-horse  and 
evinced  the  greatest  desire  to  finish  and  have  done  with  it  as 
soon  as  convenient. 

His  mortification  was  particularly  to  be  noticed  when  he 
met  other  horses:  he  would  turn  his  head  away  when  he 
passed  a  pretty  mare,  he  would  hang  his  head  when  gay 
riders  cantered  past,  and,  when  he  met  a  peddler's  horse,  he 
actually  shuddered. 

But  Warlock  need  not  have  taken  it  so  to  heart:  he  was 
the  peer  of  any  horse  we  met,  which  truly  is  no  great  recom 
mendation,  for  the  people  of  Albany  do  exhibit  the  most  sorry 
horseflesh  I  have  ever  seen,  and  so  Sir  William  had  always 
said,  laughing  frequently  at  the  patroons'  nags  until  Sir 
Peter  Warren  wrote  him  to  be  careful  else  he  might  offend 
the  entire  town. 

As  for  Albany  itself  I  found  it  very  large,  though  smaller 
than  New  York  or  Boston,  they  said,  and  I  marvelled  to  see 
so  many  troops  in  various  bright  uniforms  hitherto  un 
familiar  to  me.  The  people  themselves  were  somewhat  stupid, 
being  full  o'  Dutch  blood  and  foodstuffs,  and  appeared  some 
what  mean  in  their  dealings  with  strangers,  though  they  call 
this  penny-clipping  thrift.  Still,  gentle  blood  never  yet 
warmed  at  the  prospect  of  under-feeding  a  stranger  to  save 
a  shilling,  and  I  found  myself  out  of  touch  with  those  honest 
burghers  of  Albany  who  crowded  the  sleepy  tap-room  of  the 
"  Half-Moon  Tavern  "  where  I  lodged. 

I  had  no  great  difficulty  in  finding  Peter  Weaver,  or  in 
recommending  myself  to  his  good  offices.  He  informed  me 
that  my  uncle,  Sir  Terence  Cardigan,  was  dying  o'  drink  in 

350 


CARDIGAN 

Ireland,  and  wished  me  to  go  to  him.  I  politely  declined, 
and  told  him  why.  He  was  a  pleasant,  kindly,  over-fed  man, 
somewhat  given  to  long  and  pointless  discourse,  yet  a  gentle 
man  in  bearing  and  a  courteous  friend.  In  his  care  I  de 
posited  my  childish  treasures  for  safe-keeping,  taking  with 
me  only  three  extra  articles,  namely,  my  silver-gray  clothes 
with  underwear  befitting,  Sir  William's  leather  book,  and  the 
knot  of  ribbon  from  Silver  Heels's  sleeve. 

In  Albany  I  bought  a  ring  of  plain  gold  to  fit  half-way  on 
my  little  finger,  judging  Silver  Heels's  finger  to  be  of  that 
roundness.  I  also  purchased  a  razor,  though  I  had  no  present 
use  for  such  an  article.  Still,  I  could  not  tell  how  soon  my 
cheeks  might  require  it,  and  it  would  not  do  to  be  caught 
unawares. 

I  stayed  but  one  day  in  Albany,  paying  dearly  for  bait  at 
the  "  Half -Moon  Tavern,"  but  my  joy  in  my  freedom  and  my 
happiness  in  expectancy  left  no  room  for  rancour  against 
these  stolid,  thrifty  people  who,  after  all,  were  but  following 
the  instincts  of  their  breed. 

Sir  William  was  the  most  liberal  man  I  had  ever  known, 
always  cautious  in  condemnation,  though  he  unknowingly 
did  poor  Cresap  injustice;  but  I  have  often  heard  him  say 
that  to  choose  between  the  Dutch  and  the  French  for  thrift 
and  ferocity  was  totally  beyond  his  power. 

What  I  have  seen  of  the  Dutch  or  of  those  in  whose  veins 
runs  Dutch  blood  confirms  this.  Since  the  Spaniards  per 
petrated  their  crimes  in  the  New  World,  no  people  have 
ever  been  guilty  of  such  shocking  savagery  towards  the  Ind 
ians  as  have  the  Dutch.  Placid,  honest  in  their  own  fashion, 
cleanly,  sober,  almost  passionless,  they  yet  have,  deep  within 
them,  a  ferocity  and  malignity  scarcely  conceivable — scarcely 
credible  unless  one  has  read  that  early  history  of  their  occu 
pation  here,  of  which  little  of  the  truth  now  remains  on 
record. 

The  Albany  people  appear  to  have  little  sympathy  to  spare 
for  unfortunate  Boston.  However,  of  that  I  cannot  speak 
with  authority,  seeing  that  the  whole  town  is  soldier-ridden, 
and  Tories  everywhere  holding  forth  in  tap-room  and  market 
place.  Besides,  a  company  of  Colonel  John  Butler's  irregu 
lars  and  a  body  of  ne'er-do-well  Onondagas  were  camped 

351 


CARDIGAN 

across  the  river,  and  their  behaviour  to  the  country  people  ig 
drunken  and  scandalous. 

Before  I  left  Albany  to  set  out  on  the  Boston  high-road,  I 
visited  Mr.  Livingston's  house,  knowing  that  such  a  courtesy 
I  owed  for  Sir  William's  sake,  yet  scarcely  pleased  at  the 
prospect  of  again  meeting  Mrs.  Hamilton.  However,  I  had 
my  journey  for  my  pains,  Mr.  Livingston  being  lately  de 
ceased,  and  Mrs.  Hamilton  having  left  the  day  before  to 
visit  in  Boston.  Thus  free  of  further  obligation,  Warlock 
and  I  took  the  Boston  road  at  dawn ;  and  how  the  dear  fellow 
did  gallop,  though  he  carried  but  a  buckskin  dragoon  with 
out  company  or  colours  or  commission  to  bear  arms ! 

The  first  two  days  of  my  travel  were  almost  without  inci 
dent,  lovely,  calm  October  days  through  which  sunlit  clouds 
sailed  out  of  the  west,  and  the  wild  ducks  drifted  southward 
like  floating  banners  in  the  sky. 

In  the  yellow  sunlight  of  the  fields  the  quails  were  whis 
tling,  the  heath-hens  thundered  through  the  copse,  the  crested 
partridge,  with  French  ruff  spread,  stepped  dainty  as  a  game 
cock  through  the  briers,  with  his  breathless  menace :  "  Quhit ! 
Quhit!  Quhit!" 

Once,  riding  on  a  treeless  stretch  of  sandy  road  under  the 
hot  sun,  a  vast  company  of  wild  pigeons  began  to  pass  high 
overhead,  thousands  on  thousands,  thicker  and  ever  thicker, 
till  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  from  east  to  west  they 
covered  the  sky  in  millions  and  millions,  while  the  sun  went 
out  as  in  a  thunder-cloud,  and  the  air  whistled  and  rang  with 
their  wings. 

Their  passage  lasted  some  twenty  minutes;  a  fine  flight, 
truly,  yet  in  Tryon  County,  near  Fonda's  Bush,  Sir  William 
and  I  had  marked  greater  flights,  lasting  more  than  an  hour. 

This  and  Warlock's  narrow  escape  from  being  bitten  by 
one  of  those  red  snakes  which  pilot  the  rattlesnake  and  go 
blind  in  September  were  the  only  two  noteworthy  incidents 
of  the  first  two  days'  journey  on  the  Boston  highway. 

On  the  third  day  Warlock  cast  both  hind  shoes,  and  I  was 
obliged  to  lead  him  very  carefully,  mile  after  mile,  until, 
towards  sundown,  I  entered  a  little  village,  where  in  a  smithy 
a  forge  reddened  the  fading  daylight. 

The  smith,  a  gruff  man,  gave  me  news  of  Boston, 

352 


CARDIGAN 

hat  the  Port  Bill  was  starving  the  poor  and  driving  all 
•  lecent  people  towards  open  rebellion.  As  for  himself,  he 
said  that  he  meant  to  march  at  the  first  drum-beat  and  carry 
his  hammer  if  firelocks  were  lacking. 

He  spoke  sullenly  and  with  a  peculiar  defiance,  doubtless 
suspicious  of  me  in  spite  of  rny  buckskins.  I  told  him  that 
I  knew  little  concerning  the  wrongs  of  Boston,  but  that  if 
any  man  disturbed  my  native  country,  the  insolence  touched 
ine  as  closely  as  though  my  own  door-yard  had  been  trampled. 
Whereat  he  laughed  and  gave  me  a  brawny,  blackened  fist  to 
shake.  So  I  rode  away  in  the  dusk. 

To  make  up  for  the  delay  in  travelling  afoot  all  day,  I  de 
termined  to  keep  on  until  midnight,  Warlock  being  fit  and 
ready  without  effort;  so  I  munched  a  quarter  of  bread  to 
stay  my  stomach  and  trotted  on,  pondering  over  the  past, 
which  already  seemed  years  behind  me. 

The  moon  came  up,  but  was  soon  frosted  by  silvery  shoals 
of  clouds.  Then  a  great  black  bank  pushed  up  from  the  west, 
covering  moon  and  stars  in  sombre  gloom,  touched  now  and 
again  by  the  dull  flicker  of  lightning.  The  storm  was  far 
off,  for  I  could  hear  no  thunder,  though  the  increasing  still 
ness  of  the  air  warned  me  to  seek  the  first  shelter  offered. 

The  district  through  which  I  was  passing  was  well  popu 
lated,  and  I  expected  every  moment  to  see  some  light  shin 
ing  across  the  road  from  possibly  hospitable  windows.  So  I 
kept  a  keen  outlook  on  every  side,  while  the  fields  and  woods 
through  which  I  passed  grew  ominously  silent,  and  that  deli 
cate  perfume  which  arises  from  storm-threatened  herbage 
filled  my  nostrils. 

After  a  while,  far  away,  the  low  muttering  of  thunder 
sounded,  setting  the  air  vibrating,  and  I  cast  Warlock  free 
at  a  hand-gallop. 

Imperceptibly  the  dark  silence  around  turned  into  sound; 
a  low,  monotonous  murmur  filled  my  ears.  It  rained. 

Careless  of  my  rifle,  having  of  course  no  need  for  it  on 
such  a  populous  highway,  I  let  the  priming  take  care  of  itself 
and  urged  Warlock  forward  towards  two  spots  of  light  which 
might  come  from  windows  very  far  away,  or  from  the  lamps 
of  a  post-chaise  near  at  hand. 

Reining  in,  I  was  beginning  to  wonder  which  it  might  be, 
Z  353 


CARDIGAN 

and  had  finally  decided  on  the  distant  cottage,  when  my  horse 
reared  violently,  almost  falling  on  his  back  with  me,  and  at 
the  same  moment  I  knew  that  somebody  had  seized  his  bridle. 

"  Stand  and  deliver !"  came  a  calm  voice  from  the  dark 
ness.  I  already  had  my  rifle  raised,  but  my  thumb  on  the 
pan  gave  me  warning  that  the  priming  was  soaking  wet. 

"  Dismount,"  came  the  voice,  a  trifle  sharply. 

I  felt  for  the  bridle,  which  had  been  jerked  from  my 
hands;  it  was  gone.  I  gave  one  furious  glance  at  the  lights 
ahead,  which  I  now  saw  came  from  a  post-chaise  standing  in 
the  road  close  by.  Could  I  summon  help  from  that  ?  Or  had 
the  chaise  also  been  stopped  as  I  was  now?  Certainly  I  had 
run  on  a  nest  of  highwaymen. 

"  How  many  have  you  ?"  I  asked,  choking  with  indigna 
tion.  "  I'll  give  three  of  you  merry  gentlemen  a  chance  at 
me  if  you  will  allow  me  one  dry  priming!" 

There  was  a  dead  silence.  The  unseen  hand  that  held  my 
horse's  head  fell  away,  and  the  animal  snorted  and  tossed 
his  mane.  Again,  not  knowing  what  to  expect,  I  cautiously 
felt  around  until  I  found  the  bridle,  and  noiselessly  began 
to  work  it  back  over  Warlock's  head. 

"  Now  for  it !"  I  thought,  gathering  to  launch  the  horse  like 
a  battering-ram  into  the  unknown  ahead. 

But  just  as  I  drew  my  light  hatchet  from  my  belt  and 
lifted  the  bridle,  I  almost  dropped  from  the  saddle  to  hear 
a  meek  and  pleading  voice  I  knew  call  me  by  name. 

"  Jack  Mount !"  I  exclaimed,  incredulous  even  yet. 

"  The  same,  Mr.  Cardigan,  out  at  heels  and  elbows,  lad,  and 
trimming  the  highway  for  a  purse-proud  Tory.  Are  you  of 
fended?" 

"  Offended !"  I  repeated,  hysterically.  "  Oh  no,  of  course 
not!"  And  I  burst  into  a  shout  of  uncontrollable  laughter. 

He  did  not  join  in.  As  for  me,  I  lay  on  my  horse's  neck, 
weak  from  the  reaction  of  my  own  laughter,  utterly  unable 
to  find  enough  breath  in  my  body  to  utter  another  sound. 

"  Oh,  you  can  laugh,"  he  said,  in  a  hurt  voice.  "  But  I 
have  accomplished  a  certain  business  yonder  which  has  nigh 
frightened  me  to  death — that's  all." 

"What  business?"  I  asked,  weakly. 

"Oh,  you  may  well  ask.  IlelPs  whippet!  I  lay  here  for 

354 


CARDIGAN 

the  fat  bailiff  o'  Grafton,  who  should  travel  to  Hadley  this 
night  with  Tory  funds,  and — I  stopped  a  lady  in  that  post- 
chaise  yonder,  and  she's  fainted  at  sight  o'  me.  That's  all." 

"  Fainted  ?"  I  repeated.  "  Where  are  her  post  -  boys  ? 
Where's  her  footman?  Where's  her  maid?  Is  she  alone, 
Jack?" 

"  Ay,"  he  responded,  gloomily;  "  the  men  and  the  maid  ran 
off.  Trust  those  Dutch  patrooners  for  that  sort  o'  patroonery ! 
If  I'd  only  had  Cade  with  me — ' 

"  But— where's  the  Weasel  ?" 

"  I  wish  I  knew,"  he  said,  earnestly.  "  He  left  me  at 
Johnstown — went  away — vanished  like  a  hermit-bird.  Oh, 
I  am  certainly  an  unhappy  man  and  a  bungling  one  at  that. 
You  can  laugh  if  you  like,  but  it's  killing  me.  I  wish  you 
would  come  over  to  that  cursed  post-chaise  and  see  what  can 
be  done  for  the  lady.  You  know  about  ladies,  don't  you?" 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  do  when  they  faint,"  I  replied. 

"  There's  ways  and  ways,"  he  responded.  "  Some  say  to 
shake  them,  but  I  can't  bring  myself  to  that ;  some  say  to  pat 
their  chins  and  say  '  chuck-a-bunny !'  but  I  have  no  skill  for 
that  either.  Do  you  think — if  we  could  get  her  out  o'  the 
chaise — and  let  her  be  rained  on — " 

"  No,  no,"  I  said,  controlling  a  violent  desire  to  laugh. 
"  I'll  calm  her,  Jack.  Perhaps  she  has  recovered." 

As  we  advanced  through  the  rain  in  the  dim  radiance  of 
the  chaise-lamps,  I  looked  curiously  at  Mount,  and  he  up  at 
me. 

"  Lord,"  he  murmured,  "  how  you  have  changed,  lad !" 

"  You,  too,"  I  said,  for  he  was  haggard  and  dirty  and  truly 
enough  in  rags.  No  marvel  that  the  lady  had  fainted  at 
first  sight  o'  him,  let  alone  his  pistol  thrust  through  the 
chaise-window. 

"Poor  old  Jack,"  I  said,  softened  by  his  misery.  "Why 
did  you  desert  me  after  you  had  saved  my  life?  I  owe  you 
so  much  that  it  were  a  charity  to  aid  me  discharge  the  debt — 
or  as  much  of  it  as  I  may." 

"  Ho !"  he  muttered.  "  'Twas  no  debt,  lad,  and  I'm  but  a 
pottle-pot  after  all.  Now,  by  the  ring-tailed  coon  o'  Canada. 
I  care  not  what  befalls  me,  for  Cade's  gone — or  dead — and 
I've  the  heart  of  a  chipmunk  left  to  face  the  devil." 

355 


CARDIGAN 

"  Soft,"  I  whispered ;  u  the  lady's  astir  in  her  chaise.  Wait 
you  here,  Jack!  So! — I  dismount.  Touch  not  the  horse; 
he  bites  at  raggedness;  he'll  stand;  so — o,  Warlock.  Wait, 
my  beauty !  So — o." 

And  I  advanced  to  the  chaise-window,  cap  in  hand. 

"  Madam,"  I  began,  very  gently,  striving  to  make  her  out 
in  the  dim  light  of  the  chaise;  "  I  perceive  some  accident  has 
befallen  your  carriage.  Pray,  believe  me  at  your  disposal  and 
humbly  anxious  to  serve  you,  and  if  there  be  aught  wherein 
I  may—" 

"  Michael  Cardigan !"  came  a  startled  voice,  and  I  froze 
dumb  in  astonishment.  For  there,  hood  thrown  back,  and 
earnest,  pale  face  swiftly  leaning  into  the  lamp-rays,  I  beheld 
Marie  Hamilton. 

We  stared  at  each  other  for  a  moment,  then  her  lovely 
face  flushed  and  she  thrust  both  hands  towards  me,  laughing 
and  crying  at  the  same  moment. 

"  Oh,  the  romance  of  life !"  she  cried.  "  I  have  had  such  a 
fright,  my  wits  ache  with  the  shock!  A  highwayman,  Mi 
chael,  grand  Dieu! — here  in  the  rain,  pulling  the  horses  up 
short,  and  it  was,  'Ho!  Stand  and  deliver!' — with  pistol 
pushed  in  my  face,  and  I  to  faint — pretence  to  gain  a  wink 
o'  time  to  think — not  frightened,  but  vexed  and  all  on  the 
qui  vive  to  hide  my  jewels.  Then  comes  the  great  booby, 
aghast  to  see  me  fainted,  a-muttering  excuse  that  he  meant 
no  harm,  and  I  lying  perdu,  still  as  a  mouse,  for  I  had  no 
mind  to  let  him  know  I  heard  him.  But  under  my  lids  I 
perceived  him,  a  great,  ragged,  handsome  rascal,  badly 
scared,  for  I  gathered  from  his  stammering  that  he  was  wait 
ing  for  another  chaise  bound  for  Hadley. 

"  Vrai  Dieu,  but  I  did  frighten  him  well,  and  now  he's 
gone,  and  I  in  a  plight  with  my  cowardly  post-boys,  maid, 
and  footman  fled,  Lord  knows  whither!" 

The  amazing  rapidity  of  her  chatter  confounded  me,  and 
she  held  my  hands  the  while,  and  laughed  and  wept  enough 
to  turn  her  eyes  to  twin  stars,  all  dewy  in  the  lamp-shine. 

"  Dear  friend,"  she  sighed ;  "  dear,  dear  friend,  what  hap 
piness  to  feel  I  owe  my  life  to  you !" 

"  But  you  don't,"  I  blurted  out ;  "  there  never  was  any 
danger." 

356 


CARDIGAN 

"  Lord  save  the  boy !"  she  murmured.  "  There  is  no  spark 
o'  romance  in  him!"  And  fell  a-laugiiing  in  that  faint,  low 
mockery  that  I  remembered  on  that  fatal  night  at  Johnson 
Hall. 

"You  are  mistaken,"  I  said,  grimly.  "Romance  is  the 
breath  of  my  life,  madam.  And  so  I  now  plead  freedom  to 
present  to  your  good  graces  my  friend,  Jack  Mount,  who 
lately  stopped  your  coach  upon  the  King's  highway !" 

And  I  caught  the  abashed  giant  by  his  ragged  sleeve  and 
dragged  him  to  the  chaise-window,  where  he  plucked  off  his 
coon-skin  cap  and  stared  wildly  at  the  astonished  lady  within. 

But  it  was  no  easy  matter  to  rout  Marie  Hamilton.  True, 
she  paled  a  little,  and  took  one  short  breath,  with  her  hand 
to  her  breast;  then,  like  sunlight  breaking,  her  bright  eyes 
softened  and  that  sweet,  fresh  mouth  parted  in  a  smile 
which  spite  of  me  set  my  own  pulse  a  quickstep  marching. 

"  I  am  not  angry,  sir,"  she  said,  mockingly.  "  All  cats  are 
gray  at  midnight,  and  one  post-chaise  resembles  another, 
Captain  Mount — for  surely,  by  your  exploits,  you  deserve  at 
least  that  title." 

Mount's  fascinated  eyes  grew  bigger.  His  consternation 
and  the  wild  appeal  in  his  eyes  set  me  hard  a-swallowing  my 
laughter.  As  for  Mrs.  Hamilton,  she  smiled  her  sweet,  ma 
licious  smile,  and  her  melting  eyes  were  soft  with  that  false 
mercy  which  deludes  apace  and  welcomes  to  destruction. 

"  Jack,"  said  I,  smothering  my  laughter,  "  do  you  get  your 
legs  astride  the  leader,  there,  and  play  at  post-boy  to  the 
nearest  inn.  Zounds,  man !  Don't  stand  there  hanging  your 
jaw  like  a  hard-run  beagle!  Up  into  the  saddle  with  you! 
Gad,  you've  a  ride  before  you  with  those  Albany  nags  a-biting 
at  your  shins !  Here,  give  me  your  rifle." 

"  And  you,  Michael,"  asked  Mrs.  Hamilton,  "  will  you  not 
share  my  carriage,  for  old  time's  sake?" 

I  told  her  I  had  my  horse  and  would  ride  him  at  her  chaise- 
wheels,  and  so  left  her,  somewhat  coolly,  for  I  liked  not  that 
trailing  tail  to  her  invitation — "  for  old  time's  sake." 

"  What  the  foul  fiend  have  I  to  do  with  <  old  time's  sake'  ?  " 
I  muttered,  as  I  slung  myself  astride  o'  Warlock  and  mo^ 
tioned  Jack  Mount  to  move  on  through  the  finely  falling  rain' 
"  '  Old  time's  sake  ' !  Faith,  it  once  cost  me  the  bitterest  day 

357 


CARDIGAN 

of  my  life,  and  might  cost  me  the  love  of  the  sweetest  girl  in 
earth  or  heaven !  *  Old  time's  sake  ' !  Truly,  that  is  no  tune 
to  pipe  for  me;  let  others  dance  to  it,  not  I." 

As  I  rode  forward  beside  her  carriage-window,  she  looked 
up  at  me  and  made  a  little  gesture  of  greeting.  I  bowed  in 
my  saddle,  stiffly,  for  I  was  now  loaded  with  Mount's  rifle  as 
well  as  my  own. 

What  the  deuce  is  there  about  Marie  Hamilton  that  stirs 
the  pulse  of  every  man  who  sets  eyes  on  her  ?  Even  I,  loving 
Silver  Heels  with  my  whole  heart  and  soul,  find  subtle  danger 
in  the  eyes  of  Marie  Hamilton,  and  shun  her  faint  smile 
with  the  instant  instinct  of  an  anchorite. 

Perhaps  I  was  an  anchorite,  all  ashamed,  for  I  would  not 
have  it  said  of  me,  for  vanity. 

In  a  day  when  the  morals  of  the  world  were  rotten  to  the 
core,  when  vice  was  fashion,  and  fashion  marked  all  England 
for  her  own,  the  overflow  from  those  same  British  islands, 
flooding  our  land,  stained  most  of  those  among  us  who  could 
claim  the  right  to  quality. 

I  never  had  been  lured  by  those  grosser  sins  which  circum 
stances  offered — even  in  our  house  at  Johnstown — and  I 
would  make  no  merit  of  my  continence,  God  wot,  seeing 
there  was  no  temptation. 

I  had  been  reared  among  those  whose  friends  and  guests 
often  went  to  bed  too  drunk  to  snuff  their  candles ;  cards  and 
dice  and  high  play  were  nothing  strange  to  me,  and,  perhaps 
from  their  sheer  familiarity,  left  me  indifferent  and  without 
desire. 

A  titled  drab  I  had  never  seen;  the  gentlemen  whom  I  knew 
discussed  their  mistresses  over  .nuts  and  wine,  seeming  to 
think  no  shame  of  one  another  for  the  foolishness  they  called 
their  "fortune."  Had  it  not  been  for  Sir  William's  and 
Aunt  Molly's  teachings,  I  might  have  grown  up  to  think 
that  wives  were  wedded  chiefly  to  oblige  a  friend.  But  Sir 
William  and  Aunt  Molly  taught  me  to  abhor  that  universal 
vice  long  before  I  could  comprehend  it.  I  did  not  clearly 
comprehend  it  yet;  but  the  thought  of  it  was  stale  ashes  in 
my  mouth,  so  unattractive  had  I  pictured  what  I  needs  must 
shun  one  day. 

Riding  there  through  the  fine  rain  which  I  could  scarcely 

358 


CARDIGAN 

feel  on  my  skin,  so  delicate  were  the  tiny  specks  of  moisture, 
I  thought  much  on  the  smallness  of  this  our  world,  where  a 
single  hour  on  an  unknown  road  had  given  me  two  com 
panions  whom  I  knew. 

God  grant  the  end  of  my  journey  would  give  me  her  for 
whose  dear  sake  the  journey  had  been  made ! 

Thinking  such  thoughts,  lost  in  a  lover's  reverie,  I  rode  on, 
blind  to  all  save  the  sweet  ghosts  I  conjured  in  my  brooding, 
and  presently  was  roused  to  find  the  chaise  turning  into  a 
tavern-yard,  where  all  was  black  save  for  a  lanthorn  moving 
through  the  darkness. 

Mount  called;  a  yawning  ostler  came  with  a  light,  and  at 
the  same  instant  our  host  in  shirt  and  apron  toddled  out  to 
bid  us  welcome,  a  little,  fat,  toothless,  chattering  body, 
whose  bald  head  soon  was  powdered  with  tiny,  shining  rain 
drops. 

Mrs.  Hamilton  gave  me  her  hand  to  descend;  she  was  as 
fresh  and  fragrant  as  a  violet,  and  jumped  to  the  ground  on 
tiptoe  with  a  quick  flirt  of  her  petticoat  like  the  twitch  of  a 
robin  his  tail-feathers. 

"  Mad  doings  on  the  road,  sir !"  said  our  host,  rubbing  his 
little,  fat  hands.  "  Chaise  and  four  stopped  by  the  penny- 
stile  two  hours  since,  sir.  Ay,  you  may  smile,  my  lady,  but 
the  post-boys  fought  a  dreadful  battle  with  the  highwaymen 
swarming  in  on  every  side.  You  laugh,  sir?  But  I  have 
these  same  post-boys  here,  and  the  footman,  too,  to  prove  it !" 

"  But,  pray,  where  is  the  lady  and  her  maid  and  the  chaise 
and  four?"  asked  Mrs.  Hamilton,  demurely. 

"  God  knows,"  said  the  innkeeper,  rolling  his  eyes.  "  The 
villains  carried  it  off  with  the  poor  lady  inside.  Mad  work, 
my  lady !  Mad  work!" 

"  Maddening  work,"  said  I,  wrathfully.  "  Jack,  borrow  a 
post-whip  and  warm  the  breeks  of  those  same  post-boys,  will 
you?  Lay  it  on  thick,  Jack;  I'll  take  my  turn  in  the  morn 
ing!" 

Mount  went  away  towards  the  stable,  and  I  quieted  the 
astonished  landlord  and  sent  him  to  prepare  supper,  while  a 
servant  lighted  Mrs.  Hamilton  to  her  chamber.  Then  I  went 
out  to  see  that  Warlock  was  well  fed  and  bedded  fresh;  and 
I  did  hear  sundry  howls  from  the  villain  post-boys  in  their 

359 


CAKDIGAN 

quarters  overhead,  where  Mount  was  nothing  sparing  of  the 
leather. 

Presently  he  came  down  the  ladder,  and  laughed  sheepishly 
when  he  saw  me. 

"  They're  well  birched,"  he  said.  "  It's  God's  mercy  if  they 
sit  their  saddles  in  the  morning."  Then  he  took  my  hands 
and  held  them  so  hard  that  I  winced. 

"  Gad,  I'm  that  content  to  see  you,  lad !"  he  repeated  again 
and  again. 

"  And  I  you,  Jack,"  I  said.  "  It  is  time,  too,  else  you'd  be 
in  some  worse  mischief  than  this  night's  folly.  But  I'll  take 
care  of  you  now,"  I  added,  laughing.  "  Faith,  it's  turn  and 
turn  about,  you  know.  Come  to  supper." 

"  I— I  hate  to  face  that  lady,"  he  muttered.  "  No,  lad,  I'll 
sup  with  my  own  marrow-bones  for  company." 

"  Nonsense !"  I  insisted,  but  could  not  budge  him,  and  soon 
saw  I  had  my  labour  for  my  pains. 

"  A  mule  for  obstinacy — a  very  mule,"  I  muttered. 

"I  own  it;  I'm  an  ass.  But  this  ass  knows  enough  to  go 
to  his  proper  stall,"  he  said,  with  a  miserable  laugh  that 
touched  me. 

"  Have  it  as  you  wish,  Jack,"  I  said,  gently ;  "  but  come 
into  my  chamber  when  you've  supped.  I'll  be  there.  Lord, 
what  millions  of  questions  I  have  to  ask !" 

"  To  be  sure,  to  be  sure,"  he  murmured,  then  walked  away 
towards  the  kitchen,  while  I  returned  to  the  inn  and  cleansed 
me  of  the  stains  of  travel. 

We  supped  together,  Mrs.  Hamilton  and  I,  and  found  the 
cheer  most  comforting,  though  there  was  no  wine  for  her 
and  she  sipped,  with  me,  the  new  brew  of  dark  October  ale. 

A  barley  soup  we  had,  then  winter  squash  and  a  roast  wild 
duck,  with  little  quails  all  'round,  and  a  dish  of  pepper-cresses. 
Lord,  how  I  did  eat,  being  still  gaunt  from  my  long  sick 
ness  !  But  she  kept  pace  with  me ;  a  wholesome  lass  was  she, 
and  no  frail  beauty  fed  on  syllabubs  and  suckets.  Flesh  and 
blood  were  her  charms,  a  delicate  ripeness,  sweet  as  the 
cresses  she  crunched  between  her  sparkling  teeth.  And  ever  I 
heard  her  little  feet  go  tap,  tap,  tap,  under  the  lamplit  table. 

I  spoke  respectfully  of  her  losses;  she  dropped  her  eyes, 
accepting  the  condolence,  pinching  a  cress  to  shreds  the  while. 

360 


CARDIGAN 

She  of  course  knew  nothing  of  my  journey  to  Pittsburg, 
nor  of  any  events  there  which  might  have  occurred  after  she 
had  left,  when  her  husband  fell  with  many  another  stout  fron 
tiersman  under  Boone  and  Harrod. 

I  told  her  nothing,  save  that  Felicity  was  in  Boston  and 
that  I  was  journeying  thither  to  see  her. 

"  Is  she  not  to  wed  the  Earl  of  Dunmore  ?"  asked  Mrs. 
Hamilton. 

"  No,"  said  I,  quietly. 

"  La,  the  capricious  beauty !"  she  murmured.  "  Sure,  she 
has  not  thrown  over  Dunmore  for  that  foolish  dragoon,  Kent 
Bevan?" 

"  I  hope  not,"  said  I,  maliciously. 

"  Who  knows,"  she  mused ;  "  Mr.  Bevan  is  to  serve  on 
Gage's  staff  this  fall.  It  looks  like  a  match  to  me." 

"  Is  Mr.  Bevan  going  to  Boston  ?"  I  inquired. 

"  Yes.    Are  you  jealous  ?"  she  replied,  saucily. 

I  smiled  and  shook  my  head. 

"  But  you  once  were  in  love  with  your  cousin,"  she  per 
sisted.  "  On  aime  sans  raison,  et  sans  raison  I' on  hait!  Re- 
gardez-moi,  monsieur/' 

"  Your  convent  breeding  in  Saint-Sacrement  lends  to 
your  tongue  a  liberty  that  English  schools  withhold,"  I  said, 
reddening. 

"  Nay,  now,"  she  laughed,  "  do  you  remember  how  you 
played  with  me  at  that  state  dinner  held  in  Johnson  Hall? 
You  rode  me  down  rough-shod,  Michael,  and  used  me  shame 
fully  there,  under  the  stairs." 

"  I'll  do  the  like  again  if  you  provoke  me,"  I  said,  but  had 
not  meant  to  say  it  either,  being  troubled  by  her  eyes. 

"  The — the  like — again  ?    And  what  was  that,  pray  ?" 

"  You  know,"  I  said,  sulkily. 

"  I  think  you — kissed  me — " 

"  I  think  I  did,"  said  I;  "  and  left  you  all  in  tears." 

It  was  brutal,  but  I  meant  to  make  an  end. 

"  Did  you  believe  that  those  were  real  tears  ?"  she  asked, 
innocently. 

"  By  Heaven,  I  know  they  were,"  said  I,  with  satisfaction, 
"  and  small  vengeance  to  repay  the  ill  you  did  me,  too." 

"  What  ill  ?"  she  asked,  opening  her  eyes  in  real  surprise. 

361  * 


CARDIGAN 

But  I  was  silent  and  ashamed  already.  Truly,  it  had  been 
no  fault  but  my  own  that  I  had  taken  up  the  gage  she  flung 
at  me  that  night  so  long  ago. 

"But  I'll  not  take  it  up  this  time,"  thought  I  to  myself, 
cracking  filberts  and  looking  at  her  askance  across  the  table. 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,  Michael,"  she  said,  with  a  faint 
smile,  ending  in  a  sigh. 

"  Nor  I  you,  bonnie  Marie  Hamilton,"  said  I.  "  Suppose 
we  both  cry  quits  ?" 

"  Not  yet,"  she  said ;  "  I  have  a  little  score  with  you,  un 
settled." 

"  What  score  ?"  I  asked,  smiling.  "  Cannot  you  appeal  to 
the  law  to  have  it  settled  ?" 

"  La  loi  permet  souvent  ce  que  defend  I'honneur"  she  said, 
with  an  innocent  emphasis  which  left  me  sitting  there,  un 
certain  whether  to  laugh  or  blush.  What  the  mischief  did  she 
mean,  anyhow? 

She  picked  up  a  filbert,  tasted  the  kernel,  dropped  it, 
clasped  her  hands,  elbows  on  the  cloth,  and  gave  me  a  ma 
licious  sidelong  glance  which  still  was  full  of  that  strange 
sweetness  that  ever  set  me  on  my  guard,  half  angry,  half 
bewitched. 

"  I  wish  you  would  let  me  alone !"  I  blurted  out,  like  a 
country  yokel  at  a  quilting. 

"  I  won't,"  she  said. 

"Remember  what  you  suffered  the  first  time !"  I  warned  her. 

"  I  do  remember." 

"  Do  you — do  you  dare  risk  that?"  I  stammered. 

"  Et  d'avantage — encore,"  she  murmured,  setting  her 
teeth  on  her  plump  white  wrist  and  watching  me  uncertainly. 

The  game  was  running  on  too  fast  for  me  and  my  pulse  was 
keeping  pace. 

"  Safely  they  defy  who  challenge  those  in  chains,"  I  said, 
commanding  my  voice  with  an  effort.  "  If  that  is  your  re 
venge,  I  cry  you  mercy;  you  have  won." 

After  a  long  silence  she  raised  her  eyes,  dancing  with  a 
mocking  light  in  each  starry  pupil. 

"  I  give  you  joy,  Michael,"  she  said,  "  if,  as  I  take  it,  these 
same  chains  and  fetters  that  you  lately  wear  are  riveted  by 
Cupid." 

362 


CARDIGAN 

But  I  answered  nothing,  attending  her  to  the  door,  where 
she  dropped  me  what  I  do  believe  was  the  slowest  and  lowest 
curtsey  ever  dropped  by  woman. 

So  I  to  my  own  chamber  in  no  amiable  frame  of  mind,  and 
still  tingling  with  the  strange  charm  of  my  encounter.  Head 
bent,  hands  clasped  behind  me,  I  walked  the  floor,  striving  to 
analyze  this  woman  who  had  now  twice  crossed  me  on  the 
trail  of  fate,  this  fair  woman  whose  bright  eyes  were  a  menace 
and  a  challenge,  and  whose  sweet,  curved  mouth  was  set  there 
as  eternal  provocation  to  saint  and  sinner. 

Thus  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  had  known  what  temp 
tation  might  have  been.  Nay,  I  knew  a  little  more  than 
what  it  might  have  been,  and,  in  the  overwhelming  flood  of 
loyalty  to  Silver  Heels,  I  cursed  myself  for  a  man  without 
faith  or  shred  of  honour.  For  I  was  too  unskilled  in  combats 
with  the  fair  temptation  to  understand  that  it  is  no  disgrace 
to  falter,  yet  not  fall. 

There  came  a  timid  scratching  at  the  door;  I  opened  it 
and  Mount  sidled  in,  coy  as  a  cat  in  a  dairy  with  its  chin 
still  wet  with  cream.  He  regarded  me  doubtfully,  but  sat 
down  when  bidden  and  began  to  complain : 

"  Now,  if  you  are  minded  to  chide  me  for  taking  the  road, 
I'm  going  out  again.  I  can't  bear  any  more,  lad,  that  I  can't ! 
— what  with  Cade  gone  and  me  in  rags,  and  stopping  Coun 
cillor  Bullock  near  Johnstown  with  pockets  bare  of  aught 
but  a  cursed  sixpence  and  that  crooked  as  Lady  Shelton's 
legs — and  now  I  must  needs  fright  a  lady  into  a  faint  like  a 
bad  boy  with  a  jack-o'-lanthom — " 

"  What  on  earth  is  the  matter  with  you  ?"  I  broke  in,  peev 
ishly.  "  I'm  not  finding  fault,  Jack.  If  you  mean  to  spend 
your  life  in  endeavours  to  impoverish  every  Tory  magistrate 
in  America,  it's  your  affair,  and  I  can't  help  it,  though  you 
must  know  as  well  as  I  that  there's  a  carpenter's  tree  and  a 
rope  at  the  end  of  your  frolic." 

"  No,  there  isn't,"  he  said,  hastily.  "  I'm  done  with  the 
highway  save  to  pat  it  smooth  with  my  feet.  Lord,  lad,  it's 
not  for  the  money,  but  for  sport.  And  soon  there'll  be  fight 
ing  enough  to  fill  my  stomach ;  mark  me,  the  crocus  that  buds 
white  this  spring  will  wither  red  as  blood  ere  its  fouled  petals 
fall!" 

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CARDIGAN 

"  War?"  I  asked,  thrilling  to  hear  him. 

Pie  rose  and  gazed  at  me  most  earnestly. 

"  Ay,  surely,  surely  in  the  spring.  Gad !  Boston  is  that 
surfeited  with  redcoats  now  that  when  they  cram  down  more 
next  spring  she  can  but  throw  them  up  to  keep  her  health. 
Wait !  Boston  is  sick  in  bone  and  body,  but  in  the  spring 
she  takes  her  purge.  Oh,  I  know,"  he  cried,  with  a  strange, 
prophetic  stare  in  his  eyes;  "I  have  word  from  Shemuel. 
Now  he's  off  to  Boston  with  the  news  from  Cresap.  And  1 
tell  you,  lad,  that  the  first  half-moon  of  April  will  start  a 
devil  loose  in  this  broad  land  that  state  or  clergy  cannot  ex 
orcise  ! 

"  Not  a  devil,"  he  corrected  himself,  slowly,  "  no,  not  a 
thing  from  hell,  but  that  same  swift  angel  sent  to  chasten 
worlds  with  fire.  Dunmore  will  burn,  and  Butler.  As  for 
the  rest,  the  honest,  the  rascals,  the  witless,  the  soulless, 
thieves,  poltroons,  usurers,  and  the  vast  army  of  well-meaning 
loyal  fools,  they  will  be  cleared  out  o'  this  our  world-wide 
temple  whose  roof  is  the  sky  and  whose  pillars  are  our  high 
pines! — cleared  out,  scoured  out,  uprooted,  driven  forth  like 
those  same  money-changers  in  the  temple  scourged  by  Christ, 
— and  God  is  witness  I,  a  sinner,  mean  no  blasphemy,  spite  of 
all  the  sweating  load  o'  guilt  I  bear." 

"  Where  got  you  such  phrases,  Jack  ?"  I  asked.  "  It  is  not 
Jack  Mount  who  speaks  to  me  like  a  crazed  preacher  in  the 
South  who  shouts  the  slaves  around  him  to  repent." 

Mount  looked  at  me;  the  dazed,  fanatic  light  in  his  eyes 
faded  slowly. 

"  I  have  a  book  here,"  he  muttered,  "  a  book  I  purchased  in 
Johnstown  of  a  man  who  sold  many  to  patriots.  Doubtless 
grief  for  Cade  and  my  privations  and  my  conning  this  same 
book  while  starving  make  me  light-headed  yet." 

"What  book  is  that?"  I  asked. 

"  The  Rights  of  Man." 

"  I,  also,  would  be  glad  to  read  it." 

"  Read,  lad.  'Tis  fodder  for  King  George's  cattle — such  as 
we.  And  the  little  calves  our  wenches  cast,  they,  too,  shall 
feed  on  it,  though  they  cannot  utter  moo!  for  their  own 
mothers'  milk !" 

"  Jack,  Jack,"  I  cried,  "  you  are  strangely  changed !  I  do 

364 


CARDIGAN 

not  know  you  in  this  bitter  mood,  and  your  mouth  full  o' 
words  that  burn  your  silly  lips.  Wake  to  life,  man!  Gay! 
Gay!  Jack!  A  pest  on  books  and  those  who  write  'em!  I 
have  ever  despised  your  printed  stuff,  and  damme  if  I'll  sit 
and  hear  it  through  your  lips !" 

But  it  was  like  rousing  a  man  from  a  sleeping-draught,  for 
the  book  had  so  bewitched  his  senses  in  these  long  weeks  he 
had  wandered  alone  that  I  had  all  I  could  do  to  drag  him 
out  of  his  strange,  dreamy  enthusiasms,  back  into  his  old, 
guileless,  sunny,  open-hearted  self.  And  I  feel  sure  that  I 
could  not  have  succeeded  at  all  had  not  the  shock  of  his 
encounter  with  Mrs.  Hamilton  on  the  highway  first  scared 
him  back  to  partial  common-sense.  Added  to  this  my  en 
treaties,  and  he  became  docile,  and  then,  little  by  little, 
dropped  his  preacher's  mad  harangue  to  talk  like  a  reason 
able  creature  and  wag  his  tongue  unlarded  with  his  garbled 
metaphors  and  his  half-baked  parables  which  no  doubt  no 
simple  forest-runner  could  digest  on  the  raw  printed  page. 
I  pitied  him  sincerely.  Truly,  a  little  learning  makes  one 
wondrous  kind. 

I  put  the  book  in  my  shirt-front,  meaning  to  be  of  those 
who  ride  and  read,  even  as  Jack  was  of  those  others  who 
both  read  and  run. 

"  Why  did  you  desert  me,  Jack  ?"  I  asked,  sitting  chin  on 
hand  to  watch  him  smoke  the  pipe  which  no  kind  fate  had 
filled  for  him  since  he  left  Johnstown. 

"  Faith,  I  hung  about  with  Cade,  doing  no  harm,  sitting  in 
the  sun  to  wait  for  news  from  you.  Mr.  Duncan,  a  kind  of 
ficer,  gave  us  news  and  made  us  welcome  on  the  benches  in 
front  of  the  guard-house.  And  Mistress  Warren  would  have 
us  to  eat  with  her — only  I  was  ashamed.  But  Cade  went  and 
supped  with  her. 

"  Lad,  Sir  John  Johnson  is  not  a  gentleman  I  should  grow 
too  fond  of.  His  courtesy  is  a  shallow  spring,  I'm  thinking, 
dry  at  the  first  taste,  and  over-sour  to  suit  my  teeth." 

"  What  did  Sir  John  do  ?"  I  asked,  growing  red.  "  Surely 
he  thanked  you  and  Cade  for  saving  his  kinsman's  life ;  sure 
ly  he  made  you  welcome  at  the  Hall,  Jack?" 

"  Surely,  he  did  nothing  of  the  kind,"  grunted  Mount, 
puffing  his  pipe.  "  Sir  John  sent  word  to  the  guard  that  we 

365 


CARDIGAN 

had  best  find  quarters  in  Johnstown  taverns  and  not  set  the 
hounds  barking  in  his  kennels." 

It  was  like  a  blow  in  the  face  to  me.  Jack  saw  it  and 
laughed. 

"It's  not  your  fault,"  he  said;  "  show  me  two  eggs  and  I'll 
name  two  birds,  but  I  won't  swear  they'll  fight  alike.  If  he's 
your  kin,  it's  to  be  borne,  lad,  and  that's  all  there  is  to  it." 

I  set  my  teeth  and  swallowed  my  shame. 

"  So  we  went  to  Rideup's  old  camp,"  he  continued;  "  a  fair 
inn  where  a  man  may  drink  to  whom  he  pleases  and  no  ques 
tions  asked  nor  any  yokel  to  bawl  '  God  save  the  King !'  or 
turn  your  ale  sour  with  Tory  whining.  And  there  I  lay  and 
— tippled,  lad.  I'll  not  deny  it,  no!  Like  a  fish  in  sweet 
water  my  gills  did  open  and  shut  while  the  ale  flowed  into 
me,  day  and  night  perdu. 

"  Cade  never  drank.  God !  how  that  man  changed — since  he 
saw  your  sweet  Mistress  Warren  there  on  the  hillock  at 
Roanoke  Plain  !  Mad,  lad,  quite  mad.  But  such  a  dear,  good 
comrade — I — I  can  scarce  speak  o'  him  but  I  wink  with 
tears." 

The  great  fellow  dug  one  fist  into  his  eyes,  and  then  the 
other,  replacing  his  pipe  in  his  mouth  with  an  unmistakable 
snivel. 

"  Quite  mad,  Mr.  Cardigan.  He  thought  he  saw  his  little 
daughter  in  Miss  Warren,  without  offence  to  any  one  in  all 
the  world  and  least  of  all  to  you,  and  he  waited  all  day  to  see 
her  come  out  to  the  guard-house  and  give  the  news  of  your 
sick-bed  to  your  Lieutenant  Duncan.  So  one  day,  when  you 
were  surely  out  of  danger  and  ready  to  fatten,  comes  Cade 
to  the  tavern  and  bids  me  good-bye,  talking  wildly  of  his  lost 
daughter,  and  I,  Heaven  help  me,  lay  abed  with  my  head  like 
a  top  all  humming  for  the  ale  I'd  had,  and  thinking  nothing 
of  what  he  said  save  that  his  madness  grew  apace. 

"  And  that  night  he  went  away  while  I  slept  in  my  cups. 
When  he  came  not  I  hunted  the  town  for  him  as  I  had  never 
hunted  trail  in  all  my  life  before.  And  I  warrant  you  I  left 
no  stone  unturned  in  that  same  town.  I  was  half-crazy;  I 
could  not  think  he'd  left  me  there  of  his  own  free  will. 
Many  a  fight  I  had  with  the  soldiers,  many  a  bruise  and 
broken  head  I  left  behind  me  ere  I  shook  my  moccasins  free 

366 


CARDIGAN 

o'  dust  in  Johnstown  streets.  They'll  tell  you,  and  that  fat, 
purple-pitted  councillor — Bullock,  I  mean — why,  he  would 
have  me  jailed  for  a  matter  of  damaging  his  Tory  constable. 
So  I  gave  him  a  fright  on  the  highway  and  left  your  Tryon 
County  for  a  quieter  one.  That's  all,  lad." 

What  he  had  told  me  of  Cade  Reiiard  troubled  me.  If 
Felicity  had  been  strangely  lost  to  her  own  family,  and  had 
been  restored,  doubtless  she  was  now  happy  and  full  of  won 
der  for  the  dear,  amazing  chance  that  had  brought  to  her 
those  honoured  parents  she  had  so  long  deemed  to  be  with 
God.  Yet  she  must  be  shy  and  over-sensitive  also,  having 
been  brought  up  to  believe  she  had  no  nearer  kin  than  Sir 
Peter  Warren.  And  now  that  he,  after  all,  was  no  kin  to 
her,  nor  she  to  us,  if  a  mad  forest-runner  like  Cade  Renard 
should  come  to  vex  her  with  his  luny  fancies,  it  might  hurt 
her  or  seem  like  reproach  and  mockery  for  her  new  parents. 

"  Do  you  think  Cade  followed  Miss  Warren  to  Boston  ?"  I 
asked. 

"  My  journey  is  to  find  that  out,"  he  said.  "  Ah,  lad,  a 
noble  mind  was  wrecked  in  Renard's  head.  /  know — others 
know  nothing.  What  fate  sent  him  like  a  wild  thing  to  the 
forests,  I  only  know,  as  you  know,  nothing  but  what  he  has 
told  us  both.  If  his  madness  has  waxed  so  fiercely  since  he 
saw  Miss  Warren,  it  may  be  a  sign  that  the  end  is  near.  I 
do  not  know.  I  miss  him,  and  I  must  look  for  him  while  I 
can  move  these  clumsy  feet  of  mine." 

My  candle  was  burning  very  low  now.  Mount  laid  his  pipe 
in  the  candle-pan,  rose,  shook  himself,  and  said  good-night. 

"  Good-night,"  I  said,  and  sat  down  to  light  another  candle. 
This  done,  I  did  undress  me,  and  so  would  have  been  in  bed 
had  I  not  chanced  to  open  the  book  he  left  me,  thinking  to 
glance  it  over  and  forget  it. 

But  sunrise  found  me  poring  over  its  pages,  while  the 
,  a  pool  o'  wax,  hardened  in  the  candle-stick  beside  me. 


CHAPTER    XXII 

BY  noon  we  were  well  on  our  way  towards  Boston,  I  rid 
ing  beside  Mrs.  Hamilton's  carriage  wheels,  Jack  Mount 
perched  up  on  the  box,  and  very  gay  in  a  new  suit  of  buck 
skins  which  he  bought  from  a  squaw  in  the  village,  the  wom 
an  being  an  Oneida  half-breed  and  a  tailoress  by  trade. 

So  gorgeous  was  this  newly  tailored  suit  that,  though  my 
own  buckskins  were  also  new  and  deeply  fringed  on  sleeve 
and  leg,  even  to  the  quill  and  wampum  embroidery  on  the 
thigh,  I  did  cut  but  a  dingy  figure  beside  Jack  Mount.  His 
shoulders  were  triple-caped  with  red-fox  fur  edges;  he  wore 
a  belted  hunting-shirt,  with  scarlet  thrums;  breeches  cut  to 
show  his  long  legs'  contour  to  the  clout,  also  gay  with  scarlet 
thrums;  and  Huron  moccasins,  baldric,  holster,  and  spor 
ran,  all  of  mole-skin,  painted  and  beaded  with  those  mystic 
scenes  of  the  False-Face's  secret  rites,  common  to  the  Six 
Nations  and  to  other  Northern  and  Western  clans. 

Proud  as  a  painted  game-cock  with  silver  steels  was  Jack. 
Poor  gossip,  how  different  his  condition  now,  with  a  rasher  o' 
bacon  and  a  cup  of  ale  under  his  waist-band,  a  belt  full  of 
money  outside  of  it,  and  his  scarlet  thrums  blowing  like  rib 
bons  in  the  wind!  A  new  fox-skin  cap,  too,  with  the  plumy 
white-tipped  tail  bobbing  to  his  neck,  added  the  finish  to 
this  forest  dandy.  Truly  it  did  warm  me  to  behold  him  ruf 
fling  it  with  the  best  o'  them;  and  it  was  a  wink  and  a  kiss 
for  the  pretty  maid  in  the  pantry,  and  a  pinch  o'  snuff  with 
mine  host,  and  "  Your  servant,  ma'am,"  to  Mrs.  Hamilton, 
with  cap  sweeping  the  dust  in  a  salute  that  a  Virginian  might 
envy  and  mark  for  imitation. 

The  post-boys  slunk  past  him  with  rueful,  sidelong  glances ; 
the  footman  gave  him  wide  berth,  obeying  the  order  to  mount 
with  an  alacrity  designed  to  curry  favour  as  soon  as  possible, 
and  let  the  painful  past  go  bury  itself. 

368 


CARDIGAN 

"You  had  best,"  muttered  Mount,  with  pretence  of  a 
fierceness  he  loved  to  assume.  "Gad!  I'm  minded  to  tan 
your  buttocks  to  line  my  saddle — ho! — come  back!  I'm  not 
going  to  do  it,  simpleton!  I  only  said  I  was  so  minded. 
Into  your  saddles,  in  Heaven's  name.  Salute ! — you  manner 
less  scullions !  Do  you  not  see  your  mistress  coming  ?" 

I  handed  Mrs.  Hamilton  to  her  chaise,  and  stood  in  attend 
ance  while  she  tied  on  her  velvet  sun-mask,  watching  me 
steadily  through  the  eye-holes  the  while,  but  not  speaking. 
Yet  ever  on  her  lips  hovered  that  smile  I  knew  so  well ;  and 
from  her  hair  came  that  fresh  scent  which  is  of  itself  like 
the  perfume  of  Indian  swale-herb,  and  which  powder  and 
pomatum  can  neither  add  to  nor  dissimulate. 

Over  her  gown  of  shimmering  stuff,  garlanded  with  lilac- 
tints,  she  wore  a  foot-mantle,  for  the  road  was  muddy  from 
the  all-night  rain,  and  this  I  disposed  around  her  ankles  when 
she  had  seated  herself  in  the  chaise,  and  wrapped  her  restless 
little  feet  in  a  thick,  well-tanned  pelt. 

"  Herd,"  she  said,  in  a  whisper,  with  her  bright  eyes  spar 
kling  under  her  velvet  mask;  and  I  closed  the  carriage  and 
mounted  Warlock  nimbly,  impatient  to  be  gone. 

"Michael,"  she  said  from  the  chaise  window,  nose  in  the 
air  to  watch  me  ride  up. 

"  Madam,"  I  replied,  politely. 

"  Let  Captain  Mount  ride  your  horse,  and  do  you  come 
into  the  carriage.  I  have  so  much  to  tell  you — " 

I  made  what  excuse  I  could.     She  tossed  her  chin. 

"  I  shall  die  of  ennui,"  she  said. 

"  Count  the  thraves  in  the  stubble,"  said  I,  laughing. 

"  And  talk  to  my  five  wits  of  the  harvest  ?  How  amusing !" 
she  retorted,  indignantly. 

"  Repent  the  past,  then,"  I  suggested,  smiling. 

"  Ay — but  'tis  one  blank  expanse  of  white  innocence,  with 
never  a  stain  to  mark  for  repentance.  My  past  is  spotless, 
Michael — spotless — like  a  fox-pelt,  all  of  a  colour." 

Now,  though  we  call  foxes  red,  their  ear-tips  are  jet  black 
and  their  brushes  and  bellies  touched  with  white.  But  she 
was  right;  your  spotless  fox  can  have  no  dealings  with  a 
dappled  fawn. 

I  signalled  the  footman  and  post-boys;  the  chaise  creaked 
2A  369 


CARDIGAN 

off  down  the  road,  and  I  dropped  behind,  turning  a  sober 
face  to  the  rain-washed  brightness  of  the  world. 

So  we  journeyed,  coming  into  dry  roads  towards  noon, 
where  no  rain  had  fallen.  And  already  it  seemed  to  me  my 
nostrils  savoured  that  faint  raw  perfume  of  the  mounting  sea, 
which  only  those  who  have  lived  their  whole  lives  inland  can 
wind  at  great  distances.  It  is  not  a  perfume  either;  it  is 
a  taste  that  steals  into  the  mouth  and  tingles  far  back,  above 
the  tongue.  And  it  is  strange  to  say  so,  but  those  who  never 
before  have  tasted  the  scent  know  it  for  what  it  is  by  instinct, 
and  fall  into  a  restless  reverie,  searching  to  think  where  they 
have  savoured  that  same  enchanted  ocean  breath  before. 

At  Graf  ton  we  baited  at  the  "  Weather-cock  Tavern  " ;  then 
on  along  the  Charles  River,  with  the  scent  o'  the  distant  sea 
in  every  breath  we  drew,  through  Dedham,  past  Needham. 
and  north  into  a  most  lovely  country  of  rolling  golden 
stubble  and  orchards  all  red  with  apples,  and  bridges  of  stone, 
neatly  fashioned  to  resist  the  freshets.  Alas,  that  this  fair 
province  of  Massachusetts  Bay  should  lie  a-gasping  amid 
plenty,  with  the  hand  of  Britain  upon  the  country's  thrapple 
to  choke  out  the  life  God  gave  it. 

On  the  straight,  well-laid  high-road  we  passed  scores  of 
farmers'  wains,  piled  with  corn  and  yellow  pumpkins,  cab 
bages,  squashes,  barrels  of  apples,  sacks  o'  flour,  and  thraves, 
all  bound  for  Boston,  where  the  poor  were  starving  and  the 
rich  went  hungering  because  the  King  of  England  had  been 
angered  to  hear  men  prate  of  human  rights. 

Since  the  1st  day  of  June  the  Boston  Port  Bill  was  in 
full  effect,  and  the  city  was  sealed  to  commerce.  Not  a  keel 
had  stirred  the  waters  of  the  bay  save  when  the  great  bulging 
war-ships  shifted  their  moorings  to  swing  their  broadsides 
towards  the  town;  not  a  sail  was  bent  to  the  shore  breeze  in 
this  harbour  where  a  thousand  vessels  had  cleared  in  a  single 
year  from  its  busy  port. 

So  when  the  city  felt  the  punishment  heavy  upon  her,  and 
the  poor  starved  and  the  rich  suffered,  and  the  hot  sun  poured 
down  on  the  empty  rotting  wharves,  the  farmers  of  Massa 
chusetts  Bay  brought  their  harvests  by  land  to  the  famine- 
stricken  city,  and  sister  colonies  sent  generously  of  their  best 
with  the  watchword :  "  Stand  fast,  Boston !  A  King's  anger 

370 


CARDIGAN 

is  a  little  thing,  but  human  rights  shall  not  perish  until  we 
perish,  every  one !" 

It  was  sunset  as  we  turned  into  the  Roxbury  road,  with  the 
salt  wind  blowing  the  marsh-reeds  and  ruffling  the  shallow 
waters  of  the  harbour  to  the  north  and  east.  It  was  ebb-tide ; 
beyond  the  eastern  bog,  far  out  in  the  yellow  shallows,  the 
harbour  channel  ran  in  a  darker  streak,  glittering  under  the 
red  blaze  of  sunset. 

Wet  marshes  spread  away  to  the  north ;  the  wind  was  heavy 
with  the  salty  stench  of  mud-flats  uncovered  at  lowr-water, 
and  all  alive  with  sea-fowl  hovering.  Northeast  the  steeples 
of  Boston  rose,  blood-red  in  the  setting  sun ;  distant  win 
dows  flashed  fire;  weather-vanes  turned  to  jets  of  flame. 

The  red  glow  enveloped  the  road  over  which  we  travelled, 
now  in  company  with  scores  of  other  vehicles,  all  bound  for 
Boston — coaches,  flies,  chaises,  wagons,  farm  wains — all  mov 
ing  slowly  as  though  the  head  of  the  column  had  been  check 
ed  by  something  which  we  could  not  yet  see. 

I  rode  forward  to  where  Jack  Mount  was  sitting  on  the  box 
of  the  chaise,  and  he  motioned  me  to  his  side. 

"  We're  close  to  Boston  Neck,"  he  said.  "  Tommy  Gage 
has  been  making  some  forts  ahead  of  us  since  I  last  smelled 
the  mud-flats  yonder." 

I  rode  on  slowly,  passing  along  the  stalled  line  of  vehicles, 
until,  just  ahead,  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  an  earthwork  flying 
the  British  flag.  The  red  banner  stood  straight  out  in  the 
sea-wind,  rippling,  and  snapping  like  a  whip  when  the  breeze 
freshened.  Under  it  a  sentry  moved,  bayonet  glittering  as 
he  turned,  paced  on,  turned  again,  only  to  retrace  his  end 
less  path  on  the  brown  rampart  of  earth. 

I  shall  never  forget  that  first  coming  to  Boston,  and  the 
first  glimpse  of  the  round  city,  set  there  in  the  sea  with  only 
a  narrow  thread  of  land  to  fasten  it  to  the  continent  which 
had  made  the  city's  cause  its  own.  Nor  shall  I  forget  my 
first  sight  of  the  city's  landward  gate,  closed  by  British 
earthworks,  patrolled  by  British  bayonets,  with  the  red 
standard  flying  in  the  setting  sun. 

The  Providence  coach  was  standing  in  the  road  to  my  left, 
the  six  horses  stamping  restlessly,  the  outside  passengers  shiv 
ering  in  the  harbour  wind,  while  the  red-nosed  coachman  mut- 


CARDIGAN 

tered  and  complained  and  craned  his  short  bull-neck  to  see 
what  was  blocking  the  highway  ahead. 

"  It's  them  darned  cannon,"  he  explained  to  everybody  who 
cared  to  listen ;  "  they're  a-haulin'  some  more  twenty-four 
pounders  into  the  right  bastion.  Ding  it!  My  horses  are 
ketchin'  cold  an'  bots  an'  ring-bone  while  we  set  here  in  a 
free  land  waitin'  his  Majesty's  pleasure!" 

"  The  cannon  will  come  handy — some  day,"  called  out  a 
passenger  from  the  Philadelphia  coach,  stalled  just  behind. 

"  You'd  better  get  your  cannon  out  of  the  south  battery  be 
fore  you  lay  plans  to  steal  these !"  retorted  a  soldier,  derisive 
ly,  making  his  way  towards  the  city  between  the  tangle  of 
wheels  and  horses  which  almost  choked  the  road. 

"  We'll  get  'em  yet,  young  red-belly !"  shouted  a  fat  farm 
er,  cracking  his  whip  for  emphasis.  His  horses  started, 
and  he  pulled  them  in,  shouting :  "  Whoa,  lass !  Whoa, 
dandy!  Don't  shy  at  a  redcoat;  he  can't  harm  ye!" 

"  Gad !"  burst  out  an  old  gentleman  on  the  Roxbury  coach, 
"  is  this  rebel  impudence  to  be  endured  ?" 

A  chorus  of  protestations  broke  from  the  tops  of  neigh 
bouring  coaches,  but  the  sturdy  old  gentleman  shook  his 
cane,  defying  every  Yankee  within  hearing,  while  the  pro 
tests  around  grew  to  angry  shouts  and  cries  of :  "  Enough ! 
Tar  the  Tory !  Pitch  the  old  fool  into  the  mud !" 

In  the  midst  of  the  bawling  and  uproar  the  line  of  vehicles 
ahead  suddenly  started,  and  those  behind  moved  on,  rumbling 
over  the  planked  road  with  creaking  wheels  and  thunder  of 
a  hundred  hoofs,  drowning  the  voices  of  disputing  Whig  and 
Tory. 

I  looked  up  at  the  passengers  as  the  huge  mail-coaches  with 
their  four,  six,  or  eight  horses  rumbled  past.  Many  of  the 
people  glanced  somewhat  curiously  down  at  me,  smiling  to 
see  a  forest-runner  mounted  on  so  fine  a  horse  as  Warlock. 
And  I  was  proud  to  sit  the  saddle  under  their  gaze,  not  mind 
ing  the  quips  and  jests  directed  at  me  from  above;  though, 
when  once  a  mealy  faced  post-boy  shouted  at  me,  I  fetched 
him  a  cuff  on  the  ear  which  nigh  unseated  him,  and  drew  a 
roar  of  laughter  from  the  people  near. 

The  Philadelphia  coach  with  passengers  from  Maryland 
and  Virginia  came  swaying  up,  horses  dancing,  guard  stand- 

372 


CARDIGAN 

ing  by  the  boot,  and  sounding  his  long  coaching-horn — a 
gallant  equipage,  with  its  blue  gear  and  claret  body  showing 
through  a  skin  of  half-dry  mud. 

I  glanced  up  at  the  outside  travellers,  thinking  I  might 
know  some  face  among  them,  yet  not  expecting  it.  There 
were  no  familiar  faces.  I  wheeled  my  horse  to  watch  the 
coach  go  by,  glancing  idly  at  the  window  where  a  young  girl 
leaned  out,  sucking  a  China  orange.  Our  eyes  met  for  a  mo 
ment;  the  girl  dropped  the  orange  and  stared  at  me;  I  also 
eyed  her  sharply,  certain  that  I  had  seen  her  somewhere  in 
the  world  before  this.  The  coach  passed.  I  sat  on  my  horse, 
looking  after  it,  cudgelling  my  wits  to  remember  that  red- 
cheeked,  buxom  lass,  who  seemed  to  know  me,  too. 

Then,  as  our  chaise  rattled  by,  with  the  post-boys  urging 
the  horses,  and  Jack  Mount  on  the  box,  it  came  to  me  in  a 
flash  that  the  girl  was  the  thief-taker's  daughter  from  Fort 
Pitt. 

I  rode  up  beside  Mount  and  told  him  in  a  low  voice  that 
Billy  Bishop's  buxom  lass  was  ahead  of  us  in  the  Phila 
delphia  coach,  and  that  he  had  best  keep  his  wits  and  eyes 
cleared  for  Billy  Bishop  himself. 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders,  not  answering,  but  I  noticed 
he  was  alert  enough  now,  unconsciously  fingering  his  rifle, 
while  his  quick  eyes  roamed  restlessly  as  the  chaise  passed 
in  between  the  British  earthworks  on  the  Neck. 

Truly  this  Captain-General  Thomas  Gage,  whom  the  King 
of  England  loved  so  well,  had  cut  Boston  from  the  land  as 
neatly  as  his  royal  master  had  cut  it  from  the  sea. 

The  Roxbury  road  ran  through  a  narrow  passage  between 
two  bastions  of  earth,  surrounded  with  a  heavy  abatis  and 
irons  de  loup.  In  the  left  bastion  I  could  see  magazines 
and  guard-houses,  and  beyond  it,  near  the  shore,  a  small 
square  redoubt,  a  block  -  house,  and  a  battery  of  six  can 
non.  In  the  right  bastion  there  was  a  guard-house,  and 
beyond  that  a  block-house  on  the  shore  of  the  mud-flats, 
while  farther  out  in  the  shallow  water  lay  a  floating  bat 
tery. 

Our  chaise  rolled  in  through  the  earthworks  and  down  a 
causeway  surrounded  by  water.  This  was  Boston  Neck, 
a  strip  of  made  land  not  wider  than  a  high-road,  and  blocked 

373 


CARDIGAN 

at  the  northern  extremity  by  a  solid  military  work  of  stone 
and  earth,  bristling  with  camion. 

The  gate  guards  eyed  us  sullenly  as  we  drove  into  the 
city  and  up  a  long,  dusty  road  called  Orange  Street.  We  con 
tinued  to  Newbury  Street,  to  Marlborough  Street,  Mount 
directing  us,  thence  through  Cornhill  to  Queen  Street,  where 
we  drew  up  at  a  very  elegant  mansion. 

Dismounting,  I  took  Mrs.  Hamilton  from  the  carriage, 
and  she  unmasked,  for  the  fire  was  dying  out  in  the  western 
heavens. 

"  If,"  she  began  slowly,  "  I  should  bid  you  to  supper  at  my 
house,  would  you  hurt  me  with  refusal,  Michael?" 

"  Is  this  your  house  ?"  I  asked,  in  surprise. 

"  Yes — my  late  husband's.     Will  you  come  ?" 

I  explained  that  I  cared  not  to  leave  Mount,  and  that  also 
we  must  seek  a  tavern  as  soon  as  might  be,  for  we  had  much 
business  on  the  morrow  which  could  not  wait. 

She  listened,  with  a  faintly  mocking  air,  then  thanked  me 
for  my  escort,  thanked  Mount  for  his  share  in  providing  me 
as  her  escort  by  stopping  her  carriage,  and  finally  curtseyed, 
saying  in  a  low  voice :  "  Your  charming  Miss  Warren  is 
doubtless  impatient.  Pray  believe  me  that  I  wish  you  joy 
of  your  conquest." 

I  thought  she  meant  it,  and  it  touched  me.  But  when  I 
stepped  to  her  door-yard  to  conduct  her,  she  turned  on  me 
like  a  flash,  and  I  saw  her  eyes  all  wet  and  brilliant,  and  her 
teeth  crushing  her  under-lip. 

"  For  a  charming  journey  in  my  own  company,  I  thank 
you,"  she  said ;  "  for  your  conceit  and  your  insufferable  airs, 
I  will  find  a  remedy — remember  that!  My  humiliation  un 
der  your  own  roof  is  not  forgotten,  Mr.  Cardigan,  and  it  shall 
not  be  forgotten  until  you  pay  me  dearly!" 

Astonished  at  her  bitterness,  I  found  not  a  word  to  answer. 
A  man-servant  in  purple  livery  opened  the  door.  Mrs.  Hamil 
ton  turned  to  me  with  perfect  composure,  returning  my  bow 
with  the  smile  of  an  angel,  and  tripped  lightly  into  her  house. 

The  post-chaise  had  driven  off  into  the  mews  when  I  re 
turned  to  the  street,  but  Jack  Mount  was  waiting  for  me, 
patting  Warlock,  whose  beautiful  head  had  swung  around  to 
watch  for  my  coming. 

374 


CARDIGAN 

"Well,  Jack?"  I  asked,  wearily. 

"  The  '  Wild  Goose  Tavern  '  is  ours,"  he  said—"  good  cheer 
and  company  to  match  it." 

I  walked  out  into  the  paved  street,  leading  Warlock. 
Mount  swaggered  along  beside  me,  squaring  his  broad  shoul 
ders  whenever  we  passed  a  soldier,  and  whistling  lustily 
"  Tryon  County  Men,"  till  the  stony  streets  rang  with  the 
melody. 

We  now  crossed  into  Treamount  Street,  passed  Valley 
Acre  on  our  right  into  Sudbury  Street,  then  northwest 
through  Hilliers  Lane,  crossing  Cambridge  Street  to  Green 
Lane,  and  west  again  along  Green  Lane  to  the  corner  of 
Chambers  Street,  where  it  becomes  Wiltshire  Street  and  runs 
due  north. 

There  was  enough  of  daylight  left  for  me  to  see  that  we 
were  not  in  an  aristocratic  neighbourhood.  Warehouses,  ship- 
chandlers,  rope-walks,  and  scrap-iron  shops  lined  the  streets, 
interspersed  with  vacant,  barren  plots  of  ground,  rarely  sur 
rounded  by  wooden  fences. 

The  warehouses  and  shops  were  closed  and  all  the  shutters 
and  doors  fast  bolted.  There  was  not  a  soul  abroad  in  the 
streets,  not  a  light  to  be  seen  save  from  one  long,  low  build 
ing  standing  midway  between  Chambers  and  Wiltshire 
Streets — an  ancient,  discoloured,  rambling  structure,  with  a 
weather-vane  atop,  and  a  long,  pillared  porch  in  front,  from 
which  hung  a  bush  of  sea-weed,  and  a  red  sign-board  depict 
ing  a  creature  which  doubtless  was  intended  for  a  wild  goose. 

"Lord,  Jack!"  I  said,  "  Shemuel's  '  Bear  and  Cubs'  ap 
peared  preferable  to  your  '  Wild  Goose  '  yonder.  I'm  minded 
to  seek  other  quarters." 

"  Never  trust  to  the  looks  o'  things,"  he  laughed.  "  God 
made  woodchucks  to  live  on  the  ground,  but  they  climb  trees, 
too,  sometimes.  Do  I  think  on  the  hog-pen  when  I  eat  a 
crisped  rasher?  Nenny.  lad.  Come  on  to  the  cleanest  tap 
room  in  Boston  town  and  forget  that  the  shutters  yonder 
need  new  hinges !" 

I  led  Warlock  into  the  mews  to  a  clean,  well-aired  stable, 
where  an  ostler  bedded  and  groomed  him,  and  shook  out  as 
pretty  a  handful  of  grain  as  I  had  seen  since  I  left  Johnson 
Hall. 

3T5 


CARDIGAN 

Then  Mount  and  I  went  into  the  tavern,  where  half  a  dozen 
sober  citizens  in  string-wigs  sat,  silently  smoking  clay  pipes 
with  stems  full  three  feet  long. 

"  Good-evening,  the  company !"  said  Mount,  pleasantly. 

The  men  repeated  his  salutation,  and  looked  at  us  sleepily 
over  their  pipes. 

"  God  save  our  country,  gentlemen,"  said  Mount,  standing 
still  in  the  centre  of  the  room. 

"  His  mercy  shall  endure,"  replied  a  young  man,  quietly 
removing  the  pipe  from  between  his  teeth.  "  What  of  the 
Thirteen  Sisters?" 

"  They  sew  that  we  may  reap,"  said  Mount,  slowly,  and 
sat  down,  motioning  me  to  take  a  chair  in  the  circle. 

The  men  looked  at  us  curiously,  but  in  silence,  although 
their  sleepy,  guarded  air  had  disappeared. 

After  a  moment  Mount  asked  if  there  was  anything  new. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  young  man  who  had  spoken  before; 
"  the  Lawyers'  and  Merchants'  Club  met  at  Cooper's  in  Brat 
tle  Square  last  night  to  receive  instructions  from  the  Com 
mittee  of  Safety.  I  do  not  know  what  new  measures  have 
been  taken,  but  whatever  they  may  be  we  are  assured  that 
they  will  be  accepted  and  imitated  by  every  town  in  Massa 
chusetts  Bay." 

"  Who  were  present  ?"  asked  Mount,  curiously. 

"  The  full  committee,  Jim  Bowdoin,  Sam  Adams,  John 
Adams,  John  Hancock,  Will  Phelps,  Doctor  Warren,  and 
Joseph  Quincy.  Paul  Revere  called  a  meeting  at  the  "  Green 
Dragon  "  the  same  night,  and  the  Mechanics'  Club  sent  invi 
tations  to  the  North  End  Caucus,  the  South  End  Caucus, 
and  the  Middle  District,  to  consider  the  arrival  of  British 
transports  from  Quebec  with  the  Tenth  and  Fifty-second 
regiments." 

"What!  more  troops?"  exclaimed  Mount,  in  amazement. 

"  How  long  have  you  been  absent  from  Boston  ?"  asked  the 
young  man. 

"  Since  April,"  replied  Mount. 

"  Would  you  care  to  hear  a  few  facts  that  have  occurred 
since  April,  gentlemen?"  asked  the  young  man,  courteously 
including  me  in  his  invitation.  Mount  called  the  tap-boy 
and  commanded  cakes  and  ale  for  the  company,  with  a  harm- 

376 


CARDIGAN 

less  swagger;  and  when  the  tankards  were  brought  we  all 
drank  a  silent  but  significant  toast  to  the  dark  city  outside 
our  windows. 

The  young  man  who  had  acted  as  spokesman  for  his 
company  now  produced  a  small  leather  book,  which  he  said 
was  a  diary.  Pipes  were  filled,  lips  wet  in  the  tankards 
once  more,  and  then  the  young  man,  who  said  his  name  was 
Thomas  Newell,  opened  his  little  note-book  and  read  rapidly : 

1774,  May  13. — Man-o'-war  Lively  arrived  with  Gen.  Gage. 
Town  meeting  called.  A.  sent  Paul  Revere  to  York  and  Phil 
adelphia.  H.  very  anxious. 

May  17. — Gage  supersedes  Hutchinson  as  Governor.  8.  A.  has 
no  hopes. 

June  1. — Three  transports  here  with  redcoats.  Thirteen  Sisters 
notified. 

June  14- — The  Fourth  Regiment  (King's  Own)  landed  at  the 
Long  Wharf  and  marched  to  the  Common.  No  riot. 

June  15,  A.M. — Stores  on  Long  Wharf  closed.  Forty-third  Reg 
iment  landed.  We  are  already  surrounded  by  a  fleet  and 
army,  the  harbour  is  shut,  all  navigation  forbidden,  not  a 
sail  to  be  seen  except  war-ships. 

July  1. — Admiral  Graves  arrived  with  fleet  from  London,  also 
transports  with  Fifth  and  Thirty-eighth  Regiments. 

July  2. — Artillery  landed  with  eight  brass  cannon.  Camped  on 
Common.  8.  A.  notified  Thirteen  Sisters. 

July  4- — Thirty-eighth  Regiment  landed  at  Hancock's  Wharf, 
with  a  company  of  artillery,  great  quantity  of  ordnance, 
stores,  etc.,  three  companies  of  the  Royal  Irish  Regiment, 
called  the  Eighteenth  Foot,  and  the  whole  of  the  Forty- 
seventh  Regiment.  Also  bringing  news  that  the  Tenth  and 
Fifty-second  Regiments  would  arrive  in  a  few  days!  S.  A. 
sent  riders  to  York  and  Philadelphia.  Much  hunger  in  town. 
Many  young  children  dying. 

Newell  paused,  glanced  over  the  pages  again,  then  shut  the 
little  book  and  placed  it  in  his  breast-pocket. 

Mount  sat  grim  and  silent,  twisting  the  scarlet  thrums  on 
his  sleeves;  the  others,  with  painful,  abstracted  faces,  stared 
at  vacancy  through  the  mounting  smoke  from  their  long 
clay  pipes. 

Presently  the  landlord  came  in,  glanced  silently  around, 
saluted  Mount  with  a  quiet  bow,  paid  his  respects  to  me  in 
a  similar  manner,  and  whispered  that  we  might  sup  at  our 
pleasure  in  the  "  Square  Room  "  above. 

3T7 


CARDIGAN 

So,  with  a  salute  to  the  company,  we  rose  and  left  the 
tap-room  to  the  silent  smokers  of  the  long  pipes. 

The  so-called  "  Square  Room  "  of  the  "  Wild  Goose  Tav 
ern  "  was  a  low,  wainscoted  chamber,  set  with  small  deep  win 
dows.  It  was  an  ancient  room,  built  in  the  fashion  of  a 
hundred  years  ago,  more  heavily  wrought  than  we  build  in 
these  days ;  and  although  the  floor  -  beams  had  settled  in 
places,  and  the  flooring  sagged  and  rose  in  little  hillocks, 
yet  the  place  suggested  great  solidity  and  strength.  Nor  was 
it  to  be  wondered  at,  for  this  portion  of  the  tavern  had  at 
one  time  been  a  detached  block-house  pierced  for  musketry, 
and  the  long  loopholes  were  still  there  above  the  wains 
coting. 

Spite  of  its  age  and  fortified  allure,  the  "  Square  Room  " 
was  cheerful  under  its  candle-light  and  illuminated  sconces. 
Rows  of  framed  pictures  hung  along  the  walls,  the  subjects 
representing  coaching  scenes  in  England  and  also  many  beau 
tiful  scenes  from  the  sporting  life  of  country  gentlemen. 

Relics  of  the  hunting  field  also  adorned  the  walls,  trophies 
of  fox-masks,  with  brush  and  pads,  groups  of  hunting-horns, 
whips,  and  spurs,  with  here  and  there  an  ancient  matchlock 
set  on  the  wall,  flanked  by  duelling-pistols,  powder-horns,  and 
Scottish  dirks. 

The  furniture  was  of  light  oak,  yet  very  clumsy  and  old- 
fashioned,  being  worn  shiny  like  polished  Chinese  carvings. 
Pipe-racks  of  oak  were  screwed  into  the  wainscoting  under 
long  shelves,  well  stored  with  pewters,  glass  tankards,  punch 
bowls,  and  tobacco-jars. 

There  were  a  few  small  square  tables  scattered  along  the 
walls,  but  the  centre  of  the  room  was  taken  up  with  a  long 
table,  some  three  dozen  chairs  placed,  and  as  many  covers 
spread  for  guests. 

To  this  long,  tenantless  table  our  host  conducted  us,  seat 
ing  us  with  a  silent  civility  most  noteworthy,  and  in  sharp 
contrast  to  the  majority  of  landlords,  who  do  sicken  their 
guests  with  obsequious  babble. 

"  Well,  Clay,"  said  Mount,  hitching  his  heavy  chair  closer 
to  the  white  cloth,  "  I  left  brother  Jim  in  good  spirits  at 
Pitt." 

The  landlord  bowed,  and  seemed  gratified  to  hear  it. 

378 


CARDIGAN 

"  You  should  know,"  said  Mount,  turning  to  me,  "  that 
our  host  is  Barclay  Rolfe,  brother  to  Jim  Rolfe,  of  the  '  Vir 
ginia  Arms '  in  Fort  Pitt."  And  to  the  landlord  he  said, 
"  Mr.  Cardigan,  late  ward  of  Sir  William  Johnson,  but  one 
of  us." 

"  I  owe  your  brother  much,"  said  I,  "  more  than  a  bill  for 
a  chaise  and  four.  Possibly  you  have  heard  from  him  con 
cerning  that  same  chaise?" 

"  I  have  heard  through  Saul  Shemuel,"  he  said,  gravely. 
"  I  guess  my  brother  was  tickled  to  death  to  help  you  out  of 
that  pickle,  Mr.  Cardigan." 

"  He  shall  not  lose  by  it  either,"  said  I.  "  My  solicitor, 
Peter  Weaver,  of  Albany,  has  sent  your  brother  full  recom 
pense  for  the  carriage  and  animals." 

The  elder  Rolfe  thanked  me  very  simply,  then  excused  him 
self  to  go  to  the  kitchen  where  our  dinner  should  now  be 
ready. 

It  was  truly  a  noble  dinner  of  samp  soup,  roast  pork,  beans, 
a  boiled  cod,  most  toothsome  and  sweetly  salt,  and  a  great 
wild  goose,  roasted  brown,  with  onion  and  sage  dressing,  and 
an  aroma  which  filled  the  room  like  heavenly  incense. 

With  this  we  drank  October  ale,  touching  neither  Ma 
deira  nor  sherry,  though  both  were  recommended  us;  but  I 
wished  not  to  mix  draughts  to  set  that  latent  deviltry 
a-brewing  in  Jack  Mount,  so  refused  all  save  ale  for  himself 
and  for  me,  though  I  allowed  him  a  hot  bowl  with  his  hazel 
nuts. 

We  now  withdrew  to  one  of  the  small  tables  in  a  corner 
of  the  room,  a  servant  bringing  thither  our  nuts  and  hot 
bowls,  and  also  some  writing  materials  for  me. 

These  I  prepared  to  use  at  once,  pushing  the  nut-shells 
clear,  and  seized  the  pen  to  cramp  it  in  my  fist  and  set  to 
work,  tongue-moistening  my  determined  lips: 

"  OCTOBER  28,  1774. 
"  THOS.  FOXCROFT,  Esquire, 

"  Solicitor,  Queen  Street, 
"  Boston. 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR, — At  what  hour  this  evening  will  it  prove  con 
venient  for  you  to  receive  the  undersigned  upon  affairs  of  the 

379 


CARDIGAN 

utmost  urgency  and  grave  moment  concerning  Miss  Warren  whose 
interests  I  believe  you  represent? 

"  The  instant  importance  of  the  matter  I  trust  may  plead  my 
excuse  for  this  abrupt  intrusion  on  your  privacy. 

"  Pray  consider  me,  Sir, 
"  Yr  most  obliged  and  obedient  Servt 

"  MICHAEL  CARDIGAN. 
"  At  the  Wild  Goose 

near  Wiltshire  and  Chambers  Streets.'' 


Scaling  the  letter,  I  bade  the  servant  take  it  and  bring 
an  answer  if  the  gentleman  was  at  home,  but  in  any  event 
to  leave  the  letter. 

Mount  had  taken  a  pipe  from  the  stranger's  rack,  and  now 
lighted  it,  peering  out  of  the  window,  and  puffing  away 
in  vast  contentment. 

Northward,  across  the  water,  the  lights  of  Charlestown 
glimmered  through  a  thin  fog.  Nearer,  in  mid-stream,  rose 
the  black  hull  of  a  British  war-ship,  battle-lanthorns  set  and 
lighted,  stabbing  the  dark  tide  below  with  jagged  shafts  of 
yellow  light,  cut  by  little  black  waves  which  hastened  seaward 
on  the  sombre  ebbing  tide. 

As  for  Boston,  or  as  much  of  it  as  we  could  see  over  the 
shadowy  roofs  and  slanting  house-tops,  it  was  deathly  dark 
and  still.  Fort  Pitt,  with  its  hundreds  of  people,  which  Bos 
ton  could  match  with  thousands,  was  far  more  stirring  and 
alive  than  this  dumb  city  of  shadows,  with  never  a  stir 
in  its  empty  streets,  and  never  a  light  from  a  window-candle. 
Truly,  we  sat  in  a  tomb — the  sepulchre  of  all  good  men's 
hopes  for  justice  from  that  distant  England  we  had  loved 
so  well  in  kinder  days. 

Somewhere,  deep  in  the  dim  city's  heart,  a  fire  was  burn 
ing,  and  we  could  see  its  faint  reflection  on  chimneys  in 
the  northwest. 

"  Doubtless  some  regimental  fire  on  the  Common,"  mut 
tered  Mount,  "  or  a  signal  on  Mount  W — d — m,  where  the 
Light  Horse  camp.  They  talk  to  the  war-ships  and  the  castle 
from  Beacon  Hill,  too.  It  may  be  that." 

Musing  there  by  the  window,  we  scarcely  noticed  that, 
little  by  little,  the  room  behind  us  was  filling.  Already  at 
the  long  table  a  dozen  guests  were  seated,  some  conversing, 

380 


CARDIGAN 

some  playing  absently  with  their  glasses,  some  reading  the 
newspapers  through  round  horn-rimmed  spectacles. 

Many  of  them  glanced  sharply  at  us;  some  looked  at 
Mount,  smiled,  and  nudged  others. 

"  Do  you  know  any  of  these  gentlemen,  Jack  ?"  I  asked,  in 
a  low  voice. 

He  swung  around  in  his  chair  and  surveyed  the  table. 

"Ay,  all  o'  them,"  he  said,  returning  their  amused  salu 
tations  ;  "  they  all  belong  to  the  club  that  meets  here." 

"  Club  ?     What  club  ?"  I  asked. 

"  The  Minute  Men's.  I  meant  to  tell  you  that  you're  a 
member." 

"la  member  ?"  I  repeated,  in  astonishment. 

"  Surely,  lad,  else  you  never  could  ha'  passed  these  stairs. 
I  am  a  member;  I  bring  you,  and  now  you're  a  member. 
There's  no  oath  to  take  in  this  club.  It's  only  when  you  go 
higher  into  the  secret  councils  like  those  o'  the  three  cau 
cuses,  the  Mechanics',  and  some  others  I  shall  not  mention., 
by  your  leave." 

Mount  watched  the  effect  of  his  words  on  me  and  grinned. 

"You  didn't  know  that  I  am  one  of  the  Minute  Club's 
messengers?  That's  why  I  went  to  Pitt.  Did  you  think  I 
went  there  for  my  health?  Nenny,  lad.  I  had  a  message 
for  Cresap  as  well  as  you,  and  I  gave  it,  too." 

He  laughed,  and  moistened  his  lips  at  the  hot  bowl. 

"  Paul  Revere,  the  goldsmith — he  who  made  the  print  of 
the  Boston  Massacre — is  another  messenger,  but  not  of  the 
Minute  Club.  He  is  higher — goes  breakneck  to  York  for 
S.  A.,  you  know." 

"What  is  S.  A.?"  I  broke  in,  petulantly.  "You  all  talk 
of  J.  H.  and  S.  A.  and  the  Thirteen  Sisters,  and  I  don't 
understand." 

"  S.  A.  is  Sam  Adams,"  said  Mount,  surprised.  "  J.  H. 
is  John  Hancock,  a  rich  young  man  who  is  with  us  to  the 
last  gasp.  The  Thirteen  Sisters  mean  the  thirteen  colonies. 
They're  with  us,  too — at  least  we  hope  they  are,  though  York 
is  a  hell  for  Tories,  and  Philadelphia's  full  o'  broad-brims 
who  may  not  fight." 

"  But  what  is  this  Minute  Men's  Club  ?"  I  asked,  curiously. 

"Headquarters  for  delegates  from  the  Minute  Men  and 

381 


CARDIGAN 

all  alarm  companies  in  Massachusetts  Bay.  You  know  that 
every  town,  village,  and  hamlet  in  the  province  is  organized, 
don't  you?  Well,  besides  the  regular  militia  we  have  alarm 
companies,  where  half  of  the  men  are  ready  to  march  at  a 
minute's  notice.  One  officer  from  every  company  through 
out  the  province  is  delegated  to  attend  the  Minute  Club  here, 
so  that  he  can  keep  his  company  in  touch  with  the  march 
of  events. 

"  Besides  that,  the  club  has  a  corps  of  runners,  like  me,  to 
travel  with  orders  when  called  on.  I'm  in  for  a  rest  now, 
unless  something  pressing  occurs." 

"  And — what  am  I  in  this  club  ?"  I  asked,  smiling  to  set 
how  well  Jack  Mount  had  kept  his  secrets  since  I  first  knew 
him. 

"  You  ?  Oh,  you  are  a  recruit  for  Cresap's  battalion,"  said 
Mount,  much  amused.  "  We  recruit  here,  for  certain  com 
panies." 

"  Is  Cresap  coming  here  ?"  I  asked,  eagerly. 

"  He  marches  in  the  spring  with  his  Maryland  and  Penn 
sylvania  Rangers — to  pay  his  respects  to  Tommy  Gage? 
Nenny!  To  help  turn  this  pack  o'  bloody-backs  out  of 
Boston,  lad,  and  that's  the  truth,  which  you  should  know." 

I  sat  silent,  pondering  on  the  strange  circumstances  of 
these  months  which  had  brought  me  so  swiftly,  from  my 
boyhood's  isolation,  into  the  thick  of  the  tremendous  strug 
gle  between  King  and  colony,  a  struggle  still  bloodless,  save 
for  the  so-called  Boston  Massacre  of  some  years  past. 

That  Mount  had  coolly  recruited  me  without  my  knowl 
edge  or  consent  disturbed  me  not  at  all :  first,  because  I  should 
have  offered  my  poor  services  anyway;  second,  because,  had 
I  been  free  to  select,  I  should  have  chosen  to  serve  with  Cre 
sap's  men,  knowing  him,  as  I  did,  for  a  brave  and  honourable 
young  man. 

I  told  Jack  as  much,  and  his  face  brightened  with  pleas 
ure.  He  insisted  on  presenting  me  to  the  company — which 
was  now  fast  filling  the  room — as  one  of  Cresap's  Rangers; 
and  he  further  did  most  foolishly  praise  me  for  my  bearing 
in  certain  common  dangers  he  and  I  had  shared,  which  made 
me  red  and  awkward  and  vexed  with  him  for  my  embarrass 
ment. 

382 


CAKDIG AN 

The  gentlemen  I  met  were  all  most  kind  and  polite;  some 
appeared  to  be  gentlemen  bred,  others  honest  young  men — 
over-silent  and  sober  for  their  years,  perhaps,  but  truly  a 
sturdy,  clean-limbed  company,  neatly  but  not  fashionably 
attired,  and  the  majority  characterized  by  a  certain  lankness 
of  body  which  tended  to  gauntness  in  a  few. 

All  were  officers  of  alarm  companies  belonging  to  the 
numerous  towns  of  the  province;  all  were  simple  in  manner, 
courteous  to  each  other,  and  thoughtful  of  strangers,  inviting 
us  to  wine  or  punch,  and  taking  no  offence  when  I  prudently 
refused,  for  my  own  sake  as  well  as  for  Jack's. 

Two  soldiers  of  the  Lexington  militia  entertained  me  most 
agreeably;  they  were  Nathan  Harrington  and  Robert  Mon 
roe,  the  latter  an  old  soldier,  having  been  standard-bearer 
for  his  regiment  at  Louisburg. 

"  For  years,"  he  observed,  quietly,  "  the  British  have  said 
that  all  Americans  are  cowards,  and  they  have  so  dinned 
it  into  their  own  ears  that  they  believe  it.  It  is  a  strange 
thing  for  them  to  believe.  Who  was  it  stood  fast  before 
Duquesne  when  Braddock's  British  fled?  Who  took  Louis- 
burg?  What  men  have  fought  for  England  on  our  frontiers 
from  our  grandfathers'  times?" 

"  Ay,"  broke  in  Harrington,  "  they  tell  us  that  we  are 
yokels  without  wit  or  knowledge  to  fire  a  musket.  Yet,  to 
day,  two-thirds  of  the  men  in  our  province  of  Massachusetts 
Bay  have  served  as  soldiers  against  the  French  or  the 
savages." 

"  That  we  are  under  the  King's  displeasure,"  said  Mon 
roe,  "  I  can  well  understand ;  but  that  he  and  his  minis 
ters  and  his  soldiers  should  wish  to  deem  us  cowards — we 
who  are  English,  too,  as  well  as  they — passes  my  under 
standing." 

"  Mayhap  they  will  learn  the  truth  ere  winter,"  observed 
Harrington,  grimly. 

"  If  I  or  my  friends  be  cowards,  I  do  not  know  it,"  added 
Monroe,  simply.  "  It  is  not  well  to  boast,  Nathan,  for  God 
alone  knows  what  a  man  may  do  in  battle ;  yet  I  myself  have 
been  in  battle,  and  was  afraid,  too,  but  never  ran.  I  carried 
England's  flag  once.  It  is  not  well  that  she  foul  her  own 
nest." 

383 


CAKDIGAN 

"  I  have  never  smelled  powder ;  have  you,  sir  ?"  said  Har 
rington,  turning  to  me. 

"  Not  to  boast  of,"  I  replied. 

"  Mount  says  you  conducted  most  gallantly  under  fire," 
said  Monroe,  smiling. 

"  No  more  gallantly  than  did  all  at  Cresap's  fort,"  said  I, 
annoyed.  "  We  were  behind  ramparts  and  dreaded  nothing 
save  an  arrow  or  two." 

"  But  you  had  some  warm  work  with  certain  Tories,  too," 
began  Monroe — "  one  Walter  Butler,  I  believe." 

"  How  did  you  hear  of  that  ?"  I  asked,  in  astonishment. 

"  Benny  Prince  brought  the  news,"  he  replied.  "  Where 
he  heard  it  I  do  not  know,  but  it  is  noised  abroad  that  you 
laid  no  kind  hands  on  Walter  Butler  and  Lord  Dunmore. 
Nay,  sir,  you  should  not  be  surprised.  We  have  our  agents 
everywhere,  listening,  watching,  noting  all  facts  and  rumours 
for  those  whom  I  need  not  name.  We  know,  for  instance,  that 
Walter  Butler  has  travelled  north  in  a  litter.  We  know  that 
Dunmore  scarce  dare  show  his  head  in  Virginia  for  the  shame 
you  put  upon  him  and  the  growing  hatred  of  the  people  he 
governs.  We  know  that  Sir  John  Johnson  is  fortifying  John 
son  Hall  and  gathering  hordes  of  savages  and  Tories  in 
Tryon  County.  Ay,  Mr.  Cardigan,  we  know,  too,  that  the 
son  of  your  father  will  fight  to  the  death  for  the  cause  which 
his  honour  demands  that  he  embrace." 

"  My  father  died  for  his  King,"  I  said,  slowly. 

"  And  mine,  too,"  said  Monroe ;  "  but  were  he  not  with 
God  to-day,  I  know  where  he  would  be  found." 

Others  began  to  join  our  group.  Mount,  who  had  been  con 
versing  with  a  handsome  and  very  fashionably  dressed  young 
man,  approached  our  table  with  his  companion,  and  pre 
sented  me  to  him. 

I  had,  of  course,  heard  more  or  less  of  John  Hancock, 
but  had  pictured  him  as  an  elderly  man,  sober  of  costume 
and  stern  and  gray.  Therefore  my  first  meeting  with  John 
Hancock  was  a  disappointment.  lie  was  young,  handsome, 
decidedly  vain,  though  quite  free  from  affectation  of  speech  or 
gesture.  He  appeared  to  lack  that  gravity  of  deportment 
and  deliberation  which  characterized  the  company  around  us ; 
gestures  and  words  were  at  times  impetuous  if  not  whimsi- 

384 


CARDIGAN 

cal;  he  appeared  not  too  free  from  an  egotism  which,  I 
thought,  tinged  all  he  said,  so  that,  somehow,  his  words  lost 
a  trifle  of  the  weight  they  deserved  to  carry. 

His  style  of  dress  was  not  to  my  taste,  savouring  of  the 
French,  I  thought.  He  wore  an  apple-green  coat,  white 
silk  stockings,  very  large  silver  buckles  on  his  pumps,  small 
clothes  of  silver-net  tied  at  the  knees  with  pea-green  rib 
bons,  which  fell  to  his  ankles,  and  much  expensive  lace  at  his 
throat  and  cuffs. 

His  hair  was  frizzled  and  powdered,  and  worn  in  a  French 
club  with  black  ribbon,  and  the  hair  on  his  temples  was 
loaded  with  pomatum  and  rolled  twice. 

He  certainly  was  most  civil  to  me,  mentioning  his  pleasure 
that  Captain  Cardigan's  son  should  embrace  the  patriots' 
cause,  and  inquiring  most  respectfully  concerning  the  last 
moments  of  Sir  William  Johnson,  a  man,  he  said,  for  whom 
he  had  entertained  the  highest  possible  respect  and  admira 
tion. 

Our  conversation  was  of  short  duration,  Mr.  Hancock 
being  addressed  and  solicited  by  so  many  who  had  business 
with  him  in  his  capacity  of  delegate  from  the  secret  club 
at  the  "  Green  Dragon  Tavern." 

I  learned  from  the  hints  dropped  that  Boston  was  literally 
crowded  with  clubs,  some  open,  some  secret,  but  all  organ 
ized  to  discuss  politics,  and  pledged  to  combat  the  acts  of  the 
British  Parliament  to  the  bitter  end. 

Many  clubs  were  formed  among  the  Boston  mechanics,  of 
which  the  Mechanics'  Society  or  Club  was  the  centre.  The  Bos 
ton  mechanics,  I  learned,  were  the  earliest  and  most  constant 
supporters  of  the  patriot  cause.  Neither  threats,  temptations, 
Tory  arguments,  nor  loyalist  bribes  could  shake  their  fidelity ; 
and  they  were  the  people,  too,  who  had  most  to  lose  when  the 
city  was  closed  to  commerce.  Starvation  faced  them ;  troops 
thickened  in  Boston;  but  the  mechanics  remained  true. 
And  although,  when  in  dire  need,  to  sustain  their  wives  and 
little  ones,  they  thoughtlessly  started  work  on  the  new  bar 
racks,  at  a  word  of  warning  and  explanation  from  the  Com 
mittee  of  Safety,  they  left  their  work  in  a  body,  to  the  rage 
and  chagrin  of  General  Gage  and  every  soldier  and  Tory  in 
Boston. 

2s  385 


CAKDIGAN 

I  further  learned  that  the  patriots  carried  on  their  politi 
cal  action  not  only  by  clubs  and  through  the  newspapers,  but 
also  by  public  meetings  in  defiance  of  Governor  Gage. 

All  men  know  that  we  Americans  have  inherited  the  right 
of  public  meeting.  But  when  the  "  regulating  act "  came 
from  England  to  prohibit  that  right,  it  missed  fire,  for 
though  it  did  forbid  such  meeting  unless  authorized  by 
Governor  Gage,  it  did  not  provide  for  adjourning  meetings 
already  in  progress.  Therefore  the  assemblies  in  all  the  pro 
vincial  towns  had  begun  meetings  in  anticipation  of  the  1st 
of  August,  the  date  set  for  their  prohibition,  and  the  meet 
ings  were  carried  over  that  date,  and  kept  alive  day  after 
day  by  not  being  officially  declared  adjourned. 

It  was  useless  for  Gage  to  fume ;  he  had  no  authority  under 
the  law  to  adjourn  them. 

In  Boston  the  people  flocked  in  crowds  to  Faneuil  Hall 
and  the  Old  South  Church,  where  Samuel  Adams,  James 
Otis,  and  Josiah  Quincy  were  the  orators.  And  the  govern 
ment,  in  secret  dread,  watched  the  people  thronging  around 
these  fiery  orators,  whose  theme  was  liberty  and  equal  rights 
for  all. 

The  Committees  of  Donation  and  of  Correspondence  were 
most  active.  The  former  was  organized  to  distribute  relief 
to  the  poor  in  the  stricken  city;  the  latter  was  formed  to 
keep  all  patriots  in  all  of  the  thirteen  colonies  in  touch  with 
each  other,  and  to  observe  the  approach  of  the  great  current 
which  was  surely  bearing  war  upon  the  waves  that  formed 
its  crest. 

This  Committee  of  Correspondence  was  the  great  execu 
tive  of  our  party.  It  watched  unceasingly :  it  received  infor 
mation  from  all  the  societies,  clubs,  town  assemblies,  cau 
cuses,  and  local  committees.  It  distributed  all  information, 
all  warnings,  all  rumours,  not  only  from  America,  but  also, 
through  its  agents,  from  abroad. 

Many  of  its  members  were  also  members  of  the  "  Green 
Dragon."  John  Hancock  was  such  a  member,  and  therefore 
his  presence  here  at  the  "Wild  Goose"  was  perhaps  significant. 

That  he  was  about  to  address  the  company  was  apparent, 
for  everybody  had  now  taken  chairs  and  formed  a  semi-circle 
around  Mr.  Hancock,  who  stood  leaning  against  the  great 

386 


CARDIGAN 

centre-table,  coolly  taking  snuff,  and  glancing  over  a  writ 
ten  sheet  of  paper  which  he  held  in  his  left  hand. 

"  It  may  be,"  he  said,  "  a  trifle  premature  to  discuss  here 
in  open  meeting  those  measures  of  resistance  contemplated 
and  now  under  discussion  in  the  Committee  of  Correspond 
ence,  the  Provincial  Congress,  and  the  Continental  Con 
gress. 

"  It  is  sufficient,  therefore,  for  the  moment,  that  you  should 
know  that  Virginia  and  South  Carolina  are  at  last  aroused 
to  the  necessity  of  taking  thought  for  their  local  defences.  I 
may  also  add  that  my  Lord  Dunmore's  government  increases 
in  rigour  and  also  in  disfavour. 

"  The  Committee  of  Correspondence  has  received  word  di 
rect  from  Mr.  Patrick  Henry  that  he  regards  the  cause  of 
peace  as  already  lost,  and  urges  us  to  rely  on  Virginia,  at 
least,  for  loyal  support  in  whatever  measures  we  may  deem 
necessary  to  maintain  our  manhood  in  the  face  of  all  the 
world." 

A  murmur  of  applause  swept  like  a  whisper  through  the 
room,  hushed  immediately  by  cautious  gestures  and  glances 
at  the  street  outside,  which  might  harbour  a  spy  in  its  heavy 
gloom  and  impenetrable,  brooding  shadows. 

"  There  is  a  certain  document  embodying  a  proposed  dec 
laration,"  continued  Hancock,  "  which,  although  at  present 
merely  under  discussion,  I  expect  to  see  one  day  printed, 
completed,  and  framed,  and  hung  in  every  home  in  these 
thirteen  colonies.  You  may  perhaps  imagine  what  document 
I  refer  to,  and  doubtless  many  of  you  sitting  here  are  not 
yet  prepared  for  that  supreme  step  forward  in  our  manifest 
destiny.  Neither,  I  may  say,  are  many  who  have  the  fram 
ing  of  that  declaration  under  discussion.  Time  alone  will 
show  that  future  of  which  I,  for  one,  am  so  certain. 

"I  am  not  here  to  discuss  with  you  the  proposed  declara 
tion  in  question,  which  is  not  even  yet  existent  save  in  the 
hearts  of  those  who  have  dared  to  dream  of  it. 

"  I  am  here  to  submit  to  you  a  list  of  crimes  against  our 
colony  of  Massachusetts  Bay,  committed  or  contemplated 
by  the  King  of  England." 

He  unrolled  his  bit  of  paper,  took  a  fresh  pinch  of  scented 
snuff,  and  read,  somewhat  carelessly: 

387  • 


CARDIGAN 

"The  history  of  the  present  King  of  Great  Britain: 

"  He  refuses  his  assent  to  necessary  laws  for  the  public  good. 

"  He  forbids  his  Governors  to  pass  laws  of  immediate  impor 
tance,  unless  suspended  in  their  operation  till  his  assent  be  obtain 
ed;  and  when  so  suspended  he  has  utterly  neglected  to  attend  to 
them. 

"  He  has  called  together  legislative  bodies  at  places  unusual 
with  intent  to  fatigue,  discourage,  and  annoy  the  members  of 
such  bodies. 

"  He  has  repeatedly  dissolved  representative  houses  for  oppos 
ing  his  invasions  of  the  people's  rights. 

"  He  obstructs  the  administration  of  justice. 

"  He  makes  judges  dependent  on  his  will  alone  for  tenure  of 
office  and  payment  of  salaries. 

"  He  has  created  a  multitude  of  new  offices  and  sent  hither 
swarms  of  officers  to  harass  our  people. 

"  He  keeps  among  us,  in  times  of  peace,  standing  armies,  with 
out  consent  of  our  legislature. 

"  He  renders  his  military  independent  of  and  superior  to  civil 
power. 

"  He  protects  these  troops,  by  mock  trials,  from  punishment  for 
murders  committed  on  the  inhabitants  of  this  province. 

"  He  has  cut  off  our  trade  with  the  whole  world. 

"  He  taxes  us  without  our  consent. 

"  He  deprives  us  of  the  benefits  of  trial  by  jury. 

"  He  transports  us  beyond  the  seas  for  trial  for  pretended  of 
fences. 

"  He  takes  away  our  charters,  abolishes  our  laws,  suspends  our 
legislatures." 

Hancock  looked  up,  still  holding  the  paper  unrolled. 

"  Why,"  he  said,  lightly,  "  this  is  no  King,  but  a  Caesar  amid 
his  praetorians!  Faith,  I  have  been  reading  some  history  of 
the  tyrants — surely  not  the  history  of  our  beloved  monarch, 
George  the  Third!" 

There  was  a  grim  silence.  Hancock's  manner  changed. 
He  folded  the  paper,  placed  it  in  the  bosom  of  his  white 
waistcoat,  and  turned  soberly  to  the  rows  of  silent,  seated 
men. 

"  Yesterday,"  he  said,  "  a  carpenter  was  arrested  for  steal 
ing  bread  for  his  little  children.  May  I  request,  gentlemen, 
that  you  send  a  delegate  to  the  committee  which  will  wait 
upon  the  Governor  to-morrow  to  intercede  for  the  starving 
man?" 

Then,  with  a  brief  inclination,  he  turned  and  left  the  room 
ere  anybody  was  aware  of  his  purpose. 


CAKDIGAN 

The  effect  of  his  unexpected  appeal  was  as  dramatic  as 
his  sudden  exit.  With  one  impulse  the  company  rose,  grave, 
pale,  tight-lipped;  little  groups  formed  on  the  floor;  few 
words  passed;  but  Hancock  had  done,  his  work,  and  every 
alarm  company  in  Massachusetts  would  know,  ere  many 
hours,  that  they  were  to  fight  one  day,  not  for  their  honour, 
but  to  prevent  the  King  of  England  from  driving  them  to  dis 
honour,  so  that  their  children  might  not  die  of  want  before 
their  eyes. 

It  was  not  an  orator's  effort  that  Hancock  had  accom 
plished;  it  was  a  mere  statement  of  a  truth,  yet  so  skilfully 
timed  and  so  dramatic  in  execution  that  it  was  worth  months 
of  oratory  before  the  vast  audiences  of  Faneuil  Hall.  For 
he  had  startled  the  representatives  of  hundreds  of  villages, 
and  set  them  thinking  on  that  which  was  closest  to  them — 
the  danger  to  the  welfare  of  their  own  households.  Such 
danger  makes  panthers  of  men. 

If  Hancock  was  theatrical  at  moments,  the  end  justified 
the  means;  if  he  was  an  egotist,  he  risked  his  wealth  for 
principle;  if  he  was  a  dandy,  he  had  the  bravery  of  the  true 
dandy,  which  clothes  all  garments  with  a  spotless,  shining 
robe,  and  covers  the  face  of  vanity  under  a  laurelled  helmet. 

It  was  late  when  the  servant  returned  from  Mr.  Foxcroft, 
with  a  curt  note  from  that  gentleman,  promising  to  receive 
me  at  one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  the  day  following. 

As  I  stood  twisting  the  letter  in  my  fingers,  and  staring 
out  into  the  black  city  which  perhaps  sheltered  the  woman 
I  loved  somewhere  amid  its  shadows,  Jack  Mount  came 
up,  peering  through  the  window  with  restless  eyes. 

"  Cade  has  never  returned  to  this  tavern,"  he  said,  gloom 
ily.  "  No  one  here  has  either  seen  or  heard  of  him  since  he 
and  I  left  last  April  for  Cresap's  camp." 


CHAPTER    XXIIT 

LIKE  a  red  lamp  the  sun  swung  above  the  smoky  east,  its 
round,  inflamed  lens  peering  through  the  smother  be 
neath  which  Boston  lay,  blanketed  by  the  thick  vapours  of  the 
bay. 

From  my  window  I  could  distinguish  the  shadowy  ship 
yards  close  by.  Northeast,  across  Green  Lane,  lay  the  Mill 
Pond,  sheeted  in  mist,  separated  from  the  bay  by  an  in 
dented  causeway. 

On  Corps  Hill  the  paling  signal-fires  went  out,  one  by  one ; 
a  green  light  twinkled  aloft  in  the  dusky  tangle  of  a  war 
ship's  rigging;  the  smoky  beacon  in  its  iron  basket  flared, 
sank,  glimmered,  and  went  out. 

Across  the  street,  through  the  white  mist  lifting,  spectral 
warehouses  loomed,  every  shutter  locked,  iron  gates  drip 
ping  rust. 

Jack  Mount  came  in,  and  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  the 
bed  with  a  silent  nod  of  greeting,  clasping  his  large  hands 
between  his  knees. 

"  I  have  been  thinking  of  that  damned  thief-taker,"  he 
said,  yawning.  "  If  he's  tracked  me  from  Pitt  he's  a  good 
dog,  and  his  wife  should  cast  a  prime  dropper  some  day." 

A  servant  brought  us  a  bowl  of  stirabout  and  some  rusks 
and  salted  codfish,  and  we  breakfasted  there  in  my  chamber, 
scarcely  speaking.  Instead  of  exultation  at  my  nearness  to 
Silver  Heels,  a  foreboding  had  weighed  on  me  since  first  I 
unclosed  my  eyes.  The  depression  deepened  as  I  sat  brood 
ing  by  the  window  where  the  white  sea-fog  rolled  against 
the  sweating  panes.  Mount  ate  in  silence;  I  could  scarcely 
swallow  any  food.  Presently  I  pushed  away  my  plate,  drew 
paper  and  ink  before  me,  and  fell  to  composing  a  letter. 
From  the  tap-room,  below  a  boy  came  to  bring  us  our  morning 
cups,  and  we  washed  the  salty  tang  from  our  throats.  Mount 

390 


CARDIGAN 

lighted  his  yard  of  clay  and  lay  back,  puffing  smoke  at 
the  smeared  window-panes.  I  wrote  slowly,  drinking  at 
intervals. 

The  morning  draught  refreshed  us;  and  when  at  length 
sunshine  broke  out  over  the  bay,  something  of  our  dormant 
spirits  stirred  to  greet  it. 

"  How  silent  is  the  world  outside,"  said  I,  listening  to  the 
sea-birds'  mewing,  and  mending  my  quill  with  my  hunting- 
knife. 

"  Misery  breeds  silence,"  he  said. 

"Are  men  starving  here  around  us?"  I  asked,  trying  to 
realize  what  I  had  heard. 

"  Ay,  and  dying  of  it.  The  sun  yonder  no  longer  signals 
breakfast  for  Boston.  Better  finish  your  fish  while  you 
may." 

He  pulled  slowly  at  his  pipe.  "  If  I  am  right,"  he  drawl 
ed,  "it  would  be  close  to  mid-day  now  in  England — the 
King's  dinner-hour.  His  Majesty  should  be  greasing  his 
chin  with  hot  goose-gravy." 

His  blue  eyes  began  to  shine;  the  long  pipe-stem  snapped 
short  between  forefinger  and  thumb;  the  smoking  bowl 
dropped,  and  he  set  his  moccasined  heel  upon  it,  grinding 
clay  and  fire  into  the  stone  floor.  I  watched  him  for  a  mo 
ment,  and  then  resumed  my  writing. 

"  God  save  the  King,"  he  sneered,  "  and  smear  his  maw 
thick  with  good  fat  meat!  Let  the  rebel  babes  o'  Boston 
die  snivelling  at  their  rebel  mothers'  dried-up  breasts!  It's 
a  merry  life,  Cardigan.  I  dreamed  last  night  a  naked  skele 
ton  rode  through  Boston  streets  a-beating  a  jolly  ringadoon 
on  his  bones: 

"  '  Yankee  doodle  came  to  town 
A-riding  on  a  pony — ' 

But  the  pony  was  all  bones,  too,  like  the  Pale  Horse,  and 
sat  Death  astride,  beating  ever  the  same  mad  march : 

"  '  Yankee   doodle— doodle — do ! 
Yankee  doodle — dandy!' 

'Twas  the  bay  wind  shaking  the  weather-vane — nothing  more, 
lad.  Come,  shall  we  steer  au  large  ?" 

391 


CAEDIGAN 

"  I  must  first  send  my  letter,"  said  I ;  and  began  to  re-read 
it: 

BOSTON,  October  29,  1774. 
"To  Mistress  Felicity  Warren: 

"  DEAR,  DEAR  SILVER  HEELS, — Being  cured  of  my  hurts  and  hav 
ing  done  with  Johnson  Hall  and  my  dishonourable  kinsman,  Sir 
John  Johnson,  Bart:  I  now  take  my  pen  in  hand  to  acquaint  you 
that  I  know  all,  how  that  through  the  mercy  of  Providence  you 
have  been  reunited  with  your  honrd  parents,  long  supposed  to 
have  been  with  God,  their  name  and  quality  I  know  not  nor  doubt 
that  it  is  most  honourable.  I  did  think  to  receive  a  letter  from 
you  ere  I  left  the  Hall,  yet  none  came,  so  I  insulted  Sir  John  and 
took  Warlock  who  is  mine  of  a  right  and  I  am  come  to  Boston 
to  pay  my  respects  to  y  honrd  parents  and  to  acquaint  them 
that  I  mean  to  wed  you  as  I  love  you  my  honrd  cozzen  but  feel 
no  happiness  in  as  much  as  a  deathly  fear  hath  possessed  me  for 
some  hours  that  I  am  never  again  to  see  you,  this  same  haunting 
dread  that  all  may  not  be  well  with  you  does  not  subdue  and 
chill  those  ardent  sentiments  which  of  a  truth  burn  as  hotly  now 
as  they  burned  that  sweet  noonday  at  Roanoke  Plain. 

"  I  further  acquaint  you  that  my  solicitor,  Mr.  Peter  Weaver 
of  Albany,  hath  news  that  my  uncle,  Sir  Terence  Cardigan, 
Bart,  is  at  a  low  ebb  of  life  being  close  to  his  Maker  through 
much  wine  and  excesses,  and  hath  sent  for  me,  but  I  would  not 
stir  a  peg  till  I  have  found  you  dear  Silver  Heels  to  ask  you  if 
you  do  still  love  that  foolish  lad  who  will  soon  be  Sir  Michael 
Cardigan  to  the  world  but  ever  the  same  Micky  to  you,  though  if 
war  comes  to  us  I  doubt  not  that  my  title  and  estate  will  be  con 
fiscated  in  as  much  as  I  shall  embrace  the  cause  of  the  colonies 
and  do  what  harm  I  may  to  the  soldiers  of  our  King. 

"  My  sweet  Silver  Heels,  this  letter  is  to  be  delivered  to  y 
solicitor  Mr.  Thomas  Foxcroft  and  by  him  instantly  into  your 
own  hands,  there  being  nothing  in  it  not  honourable  and  proper. 
I  strive  in  vain  to  shake  off  the  depression  which  so  weighs  down 
my  heart  that  it  is  heavy  with  the  dread  that  all  may  not  be  well 
with  you,  for  I  do  distrust  Sir  John  his  word,  and  I  do  despise 
him  heartily  and  deem  it  strange  that  he  did  conduct  you  to  Bos 
ton  under  pretence  of  a  business  affair  which  he  has  since  re 
fused  to  discuss  with  me. 

"  Dear  maid,  if  yr  honourable  parents  will  permit,  I  shall  this 
day  venture  to  present  myself  and  formally  demand  your  hand  in 
that  sweet  alliance  which  even  death  cannot  end  but  must  per 
force  render  immortal  for  all  time. 

"  Your   faithful   and   obedient 

"  servant  and  devoted  lover 

"  MICHAEL  CARDIGAN." 

The  writing  of  this  letter  comforted  me.  I  directed  it 
to  u  Miss  Warren,  in  care  of  Mr.  Thomas  Foxcroft,  to  be  de- 


CARDIGAN 

livered  immediately,"  and  summoning  a  servant,  charged  him 
to  bear  it  instantly  to  Mr.  Foxcroft. 

"  It  is  but  a  step  to  Queen  Street,"  I  said  to  the  lank  lad ; 
"  so  if  by  chance  the  young  lady  herself  be  living  there,  you 
shall  wait  her  pleasure  and  bring  me  my  answer."  And  I 
gave  him  three  bright  shillings  fresh  struck  from  the  mint 
that  year. 

"  You  will  go  with  me,  Jack  ?"  I  asked,  as  the  messenger 
vanished. 

Mount,  sprawling  by  the  window,  turned  his  massive  head 
towards  me  like  a  sombre-eyed  mastiff. 

"  Daylight  is  no  friend  o'  mine,"  he  said,  slowly.  "  In 
Boston  here  they  peddle  ballads  about  me  and  Cade;  and 
some  puling  quill-mender  has  writ  a  book  about  me,  the 
same  bearing  a  gallows  on  the  cover." 

"  Then  you  had  best  stay  here,"  I  said ;  "  I  can  manage 
very  well  alone,  Jack." 

"  Once,"  continued  Mount,  thoughtfully,  polishing  his 
hatchet  on  his  buckskin  breeches — "  once  I  went  strolling  on 
the  Neck,  yonder,  and  no  thought  o'  the  highway  either,  when 
a  large,  fat  man  came  a-waddling  with  two  servants,  and  a 
pair  o'  saddle-bags  as  fat  as  the  man,  every  bit." 

He  licked  his  lips  and  slowly  turned  his  eyes  away  from 
mine. 

"  The  moon  was.  knee-high  over  the  salt-grass,"  he  con 
tinued  ;  "  the  devil's  in  the  moon  when  it's  knee-high." 

"  So  you  robbed  him,"  I  added,  disgusted.  Mount  glanced 
guiltily  around  the  room — anywhere  but  at  me. 

"  I  only  asked  him  what  his  saddle-bags  might  weigh,"  he 
muttered,  "  and  the  fat  fool  bawled,  '  Thief !  Help !'  If  he 
had  not  put  it  in  my  mind  to  scotch  him! — but  the  great 
booby  must  out  with  his  small-sword  and  call  up  his  men. 
So,  when  he  fell  a-roaring  that  he  was  a  King's  magistrate — 
why — why,  I  rubbed  a  pistol  under  his  nose.  And  would  you 
believe  it,  lad,  the  next  thing  I  knew,  Cade  and  I  could  scarce 
walk  for  the  weight  o'  the  half-crowns  in  our  breeches-pock 
ets  !  It  amazes  me  even  yet — it  does  indeed !" 

"  You'd  best  look  to  your  neck,  then,"  I  said,  shortly.  "  Re 
member  Bishop's  buxom  daughter  on  the  Philadelphia  coach 
last  night.  Where  the  kitten  runs  the  catamount  prowls." 

393 


CARDIGAN 

"Oh,  I'll  take  the  air  by  night,"  observed  Mount,  with 
perfect  good-humour.  "  The  night  air  o'  Boston  is  famous 
medicine  for  troubles  like  mine." 

"  You  will  do  no  more  tricks  on  the  highway  ?"  I  demanded, 
suspiciously. 

He  buried  his  nose  in  a  pot  of  beer  without  replying.  An 
hour  passed  in  silence,  save  for  the  continual  trotting  to  and 
fro  of  the  boy  from  the  tap-room,  bearing  deep,  frothing 
tankards  for  Mount. 

"  Have  a  care,"  I  said,  at  length ;  "  if  you  drink  like  that 
you'll  be  out  and  abroad  and  into  every  foolish  mischief, 
as  you  were  in  Pittsburg.  Be  a  man,  Jack !" 

"  I'm  all  salty  inside  like  a  split  herring,"  he  said,  reach 
ing  for  a  fresh  pewter,  and  blowing  the  foam  till  it  scattered 
over  the  floor  like  flakes  of  snow. 

Two  hours  had  dragged  on  towards  their  finish,  and  al 
ready  the  clocks  in  the  tavern  were  tolling  the  death  of  an 
other  hour,  when  my  lank  messenger  came  breathless  to  the 
door  with  a  letter  for  me,  and  at  the  first  glance  I  saw  that 
the  writing  was  the  hand  of  Silver  Heels  herself. 

Mount  gaped  at  me,  then  one  of  his  rare  and  delicate  in 
stincts  moved  him  to  withdraw.  I  heard  him  leave  the 
room,  but  did  not  heed  his  going,  for  I  was  already  deep  in 
the  pages  of  the  letter: 

"  DEAR  LAD,  MY  OLD  COMRADE, — Mr.  Foxcroft  did  summon  me  to 
consider  your  letter  of  last  evening,  how  it  were  best  to  inform 
you  of  what  you  should  know. 

"  Now  comes  your  letter  of  this  morning  by  your  messenger, 
and  leaves  me  a-tremble  to  breathe  its  perfume  of  the  love  which 
I  had,  days  since,  resigned. 

"  For  I  did  write  you  constantly  to  Johnstown  in  care  of  Sir 
John,  and  no  answer  came  save  one,  from  Sir  John,  saying  you 
cared  not  to  answer  me  my  letters.  This  cruel  insult  from  Sir 
John  could  not  have  been  the  truth  in  light  of  the  letter  now 
folded  in  my  bosom,  and  softly  rustling  nestled  against  my  breast. 

"  But  it  is  plain  to  me,  dear  heart,  that  you  as  yet  know  noth 
ing  of  what  great  change  has  come  to  me.  And  so,  before  I  dare 
give  you  the  answer  which  burns  my  mouth  and  thrills  this  poor 
body  o'  mine  which  aches  for  you,  I  must,  for  honour's  sake,  re 
veal  to  you  what  manner  of  maid  you  would  now  court,  and  into 
what  desperate  conditions  I  am  come;  not  that  I  doubt  you, 
Michael,  dear  soul  of  chivalry  and  tender  truth ! 

"  Know  then,  my  friend,  that  I  am  hopelessly  poor  in  this 

394 


CAKDIGAN 

world's  goods ;  know,  too,  that  the  new  name  I  bear  is  a  name 
marked  for  pity  or  contempt  by  those  few  who  have  not  long 
since  forgotten  it.  It  is  the  death  of  my  pride  to  say  this.  Yet 
I  say  it. 

"My  father  is  old  and  broken.  His  faculties  have  failed;  he 
is  like  a  child  who  forgets  what  his  tongue  utters,  even  while 
voicing  his  harmless  desires.  His  property  is  gone;  he  does  not 
know  it.  He  sees  around  him  the  shadows  of  the  past;  he  talks 
with  the  dead  as  though  they  sat  at  his  elbow. 

"  His  house  is  an  empty  shell ;  his  lands  have  grown  into 
thickets;  his  estate  is  lost  to  him  through  taxes  long  unpaid. 
Yet  everywhere  the  phantoms  of  dead  scenes  surround  him ;  ghosts 
walk  with  him  through  spectral  domains,  ride  with  him  to  hounds, 
carry  his  colours  to  victory  on  the  race-course,  sit  with  him  at 
table,  pour  water  for  him  which,  in  his  wrapped  eyes,  bubbles  like 
wine. 

"  Believe  me,  dear  friend,  it  is  pitiful  and  sad — sad  past  all 
I  have  ever  known. 

"  For  me,  too,  it  is  so  strange,  so  hopeless,  that,  even  after 
these  long  days,  it  is  still  an  untrue  dream  from  which  I  seem 
too  weary  and  stunned  to  rouse  and  drive  the  gray  vision 
from  me. 

"  Long  ago,  in  a  distant  year  of  sunlight,  I  remember  a  child 
called  Silver  Heels,  whose  mad  desire  for  rank  and  power  crammed 
her  silly  head,  till,  of  a  sweet  May  day,  love  came  to  her.  Love 
drove  her  to  folly;  love  reclaimed  her;  love  lies  still  in  her  heart, 
watching  for  you  with  tireless  eyes. 

"Dear  heart,  would  you  take  me?  Even  after  all  you  now 
know?  Do  you  want  me,  Michael? — me? — when  all  the  world 
lies  before  you? 

*'  I  once  most  wickedly  said  that  if  I  had  been  humbly  born,  I 
would  not  for  my  pride's  sake  wed  with  you.  It  is  not  true, 
Michael ;  I  will  wed  with  you.  But,  if  after  what  you  have  learn 
ed,  you  care  no  longer  to  wed  me,  do  not  write  me;  do  not  come 
to  give  me  reasons. 

"  Mr.  Foxcroft  attends  me.  We  will  await  you  at  his  house, 
at  noon,  and  if  you  come — as,  God  help  me,  I  believe  you  will — 
then  I  shall  teach  you  what  a  maid's  love  can  mean.  Oh,  to  have 
you  again,  as  I  held  you  those  long  days  on  the  trail;  but  you 
were  too  near  death  to  know  it! — too  close  to  death  to  hear  all  I 
promised  you  if  only  you  would  live! 

"  FELICITY." 

"Mount!"  I  cried,  all  of  a-tremble,  "I  shall  wed  this 
noon!  Get  me  a  parson,  man!"  And  I  began  tearing  off 
my  buckskins  and  flinging  them  right  and  left,  shouting  for 
Jack  the  while,  and  dressing  in  my  finest  linen  and  my 
silver-gray  velvet. 

395 


CARDIGAN 

Now  choking  with  the  tears  that  I  could  not  crush  back, 
now  smiling  at  the  sunlight  which  yellowed  the  white  walls 
of  my  chamber,  I  shouted  at  intervals  for  Mount,  until  the 
tap-boy  came  to  say  that  Mount  had  gone  out.  So  I  bade 
the  tap-boy  hasten  forth  and  buy  me  a  large  nosegay  with 
streamers,  and  fetch  it  to  me  instantly;  and  then  returned 
to  my  toilet  with  a  feverish  haste  that  defeated  its  own 
purpose. 

At  last,  however,  I  hung  my  sword,  dusted  the  hair-powder 
from  frill  and  ruffle,  buckled  shoon  and  knees,  and  shook  out 
the  long  soft  lace  over  my  cuffs.  Then  I  found  the  ring  I 
had  bought  in  Albany,  and  placed  it  in  my  silver-webbed 
waistcoat  with  its  flowered  flaps  of  orange  silk. 

The  inn  clocks  chimed  for  ten  as  the  lad  brought  me  a 
huge  nosegay  all  fluttering  with  white  silken  streamers. 

"  Where  is  my  companion  ?"  I  asked,  red  as  a  poppy  under 
his  grins. 

"  Below,  sir,"  replied  the  lad,  hesitating. 

"  Drunk  ?"  I  demanded,  angrily. 

"  Tolerable,"  said  the  lad. 

With  that  I  seized  my  nosegay,  set  my  small  French  hat 
on  my  head,  and  went  down  the  side  stairway  to  the  street. 

Mount,  swaggering  on  the  tap-room  porch,  spied  me  and 
rubbed  his  startled  eyes.  But  I  seized  him  by  the  painted 
cape  of  his  fox-trimmed  hunting-shirt,  and  jerked  him  to 
and  fro  savagely. 

"Idiot!  Tippler!  Pottle-pot!"  I  cried,  in  a  rage.  "Pm 
to  be  married — d'ye  hear?  Married!  Married!  Get  me  a 
parson !  Take  my  nosegay !  So !  Now  walk  behind  me  as 
if  you  knew  what  decent  folk  are  accustomed  to  do  at  a  sud 
den  wedding !" 

"  How  can  I  get  you  a  parson  if  I'm  to  march  here  behind 
you,  bearing  this  nosegay?"  he  remonstrated,  sidling  away 
towards  the  tavern  again. 

"You  stay  where  you  are!"  I  said;  then  I  called  a  servant 
and  bade  him  find  a  parson  to  go  instantly  to  the  house  of 
Thomas  Foxcroft  in  Queen  Street,  and  there  await  my  com 
ing.  , 

Mount,  almost  sobered  through  sheer  astonishment,  regard 
ed  me  wildly. 

396 


CARDIGAN 

"  Jack,  old  friend,"  I  said,  in  a  burst  of  happiness,  "  I've 
found  her,  and  she  will  be  my  wife  by  noon!  Give  me  joy, 
Jack! — and  mind  that  nosegay,  idiot!  Hold  it  aloft,  else  the 
streamers  will  trail  in  the  dust!  Now,  then!  Follow  me! 
Gingerly,  idiot,  gingerly !" 

And  away  I  marched,  scarce  knowing  what  I  did  in  my  ex 
citement,  but  turning  now  and  again  to  see  that  Mount  fol 
lowed,  bearing  the  nosegay  with  proper  care. 

"  If  you  are  to  be  wedded  at  noon,"  he  said,  timidly,  as 
we  were  hurrying  through  Cambridge  Street,  "  what  are  we 
going  to  do  until  then — walk  the  streets  like  this?  Lord, 
what  a  fool  I  feel !" 

I  stopped  short.  It  was  quite  true  that  I  was  not  expected 
at  Mr.  Foxcroft's  before  noon,  and  it  was  now  but  ten  o'clock 
or  a  little  after. 

"  I  can't  sit  still  in  that  tavern,"  I  said.  "  Let  us  walk, 
Jack.  Two  hours  are  quickly  past.  Come,  step  beside  me — 
and  mind  those  ribbons !  Jack !  I  am  mad  with  happiness !" 

"  Then  let  us  drink  to  it,"  suggested  Mount,  but  I  jerked 
him  to  my  side,  and  scarcely  knowing  what  to  do  or  where  to 
go,  started  on,  with  the  vague  idea  of  circling  the  city  in  a 
triumphal  march. 

I  shall  never  forget  my  first  glimpse  of  the  city  by  daylight : 
its  brick  houses  streaked  with  sea-fog,  its  bare  wooden  wharves 
glimmering  in  the  sunshine,  as  Mount  and  I  passed  through 
Lyna  Street  and  out  along  the* water  by  Lee's  ship-yard  and 
Waldo's  Wharf. 

Northward  across  the  misty  water  the  roofs  and  steeples 
of  Charlestown  reddened  in  the  sun ;  to  the  west  the  cannon 
on  Corps  Hill  glittered,  pointing  seaward  over  the  Northwest 
Water  Mill.  From  somewhere  in  the  city  came  the  beating 
of  drums  and  the  faint  squealing  of  fifes;  the  lion  banner 
of  England  flapped  from  Beacon  Hill;  white  tents  crowned 
the  summit  of  Valley  Acre ;  the  ashes  of  the  beacon  smoked. 

In  the  northwestern  portion  of  the  city  the  quiet  of  death 
reigned ;  there  was  not  a  sign  of  life  in  the  streets ;  the  wood 
en  houses  were  closed  and  darkened;  the  ship-yards  and 
wharves  deserted;  not  a  living  soul  was  to  be  seen  abroad. 
Mount's  noiseless  moccasined  tread  awoke  no  echoes,  but  my 
smart  heels  clattered  as  we  turned  southeast  through  squalid 

397 


CARDIGAN 

Hawkins  Street,  through  Sudbury,  Hanover,  Wings  Lane, 
Dock  Square,  by  the  Town  Dock,  and  then  south,  past  the 
Long  Wharf  and  Battery  Marsh,  above  which,  on  Fort  Hill, 
another  British  flag  rippled  against  the  blue  sky. 

"  The  damned  rag  flies  high  to-day,"  muttered  Mount. 

"  Are  you  not  done  with  cursing  it  ?"  I  said,  impatiently. 
"  This  is  no  day  for  bitterness." 

"  It's  a  slave's  flag,"  retorted  Mount — "  parry  that !" 

"  It  flew  for  centuries  above  free  men ;  let  that  plead  for 
it!"  I  answered. 

There  was  an  inn  on  Milk  Street,  near  Bishop's  Alley,  and 
the  first  open  house  we  had  encountered.  Mount,  before  I 
could  prevent  him,  had  nosed  out  the  tap-room,  and  I  fol 
lowed  perforce,  although  I  knew  well  enough  that  it  was 
an  ill-advised  proceeding,  the  place  being  full  of  British 
soldiery  and  Mount  in  a  quarrelsome  mood. 

The  soldiers  eyed  Mount  and  his  nosegay  askance,  and 
Mount  cocked  his  fox-skin  cap  and  ruffled  it  offensively,  out- 
staring  the  most  insolent  of  them.  But  presently,  to  my 
relief,  the  soldiers  left  without  accepting  the  opportunity 
for  a  quarrel,  and  Mount,  somewhat  dejected,  refilled  his 
glass  and  emptied  it,  with  a  disagreeable  laugh.  Then  we 
went  out  by  way  of  Winter  Street  to  the  Mall,  Jack  bearing 
my  nosegay  as  though  it  had  been  a  hostile  ensign  to  flaunt 
before  all  England. 

There  seemed  to  be  many  pe'ople  abroad  on  Common  Street ; 
the  shops  were  open  all  along  Treamount  and  King  streets, 
and  the  Boston  citizens  went  about  their  affairs  as  soberly 
and  quietly  as  though  the  city  were  not  choking  to  death  with 
England's  heavy  fist  at  its  throat. 

As  for  the  Boston  people,  they  resembled  our  good  towns 
men  of  Tryon  County  somewhat,  though  their  clothes  were 
of  a  more  elegant  cut,  and  even  the  snuffiest  of  them  wore 
lace  and  buckles.  Their  limbs  and  features,  however,  ap 
peared  long  and  thin,  a  characteristic  I  had  already  noticed 
in  New  England  folk. 

Through  the  double  rows  of  trees  I  could  see  the  tents 
of  the  marines  pitched  on  the  Mall,  and  beyond  them  a  park 
of  artillery  and  some  low  redoubts.  Soldiers  were  passing 
everywhere:  here  a  company  marching  to  the  drum  across 

398 


CARDIGAN 

the  Common,  black  gaiters  twinkling;  there  a  squadron  of 
Light  Horse,  in  blue  and  silver,  riding,  two  abreast,  to  their 
barracks  on  George  Street.  Anon  comes  a  company  of  red 
necked  Highlanders,  bagpipes  squawling,  and  it  made  me 
think  of  Johnson  Hall  to  see  their  bare  shins  passing,  spor 
rans  a-swing,  and  the  crawling  whine  of  their  pipes  in  my 
ears. 

I  looked  at  my  watch;  it  was  eleven  o'clock.  Mount  and 
I  leaned  back  against  the  railing  of  the  south  burying-ground, 
watching  the  busy  life  of  the  camp  on  the  Common.  I  had 
never  before  seen  so  many  soldiers  together,  nor  such  a  brill 
iant  variety  of  uniforms.  The  towns-people,  too,  lingered 
to  watch  the  soldiers,  some  sullenly,  some  indifferently,  some 
in  open  enjoyment.  These  latter  were  doubtless  Tories,  for 
in  their  faces  one  could  not  mistake  the  expression  of  sneer 
ing  triumph.  Also  many  of  them  talked  to  the  soldiers, 
which  earned  them  unconcealed  scowls  from  passing  citizens. 

"  Well,"  said  Mount,  "  have  you  seen  enough  of  the  lob 
ster-backs?  The  sight  of  them,"  he  continued,  raising  his 
voice,  "  sours  my  stomach,  and  I  care  not  who  knows  it." 

Several  people  near  us  looked  at  him. 

"  Keep  quiet !"  I  said,  sharply.  "  I  have  no  desire  to  spend 
the  day  in  the  provost  cell  yonder.  Can  you  not  remember 
what  this  day  means  to  me  ?" 

Mount  shrugged  his  broad  shoulders,  lighted  his  pipe,  and 
sat  down  on  the  grass  under  a  tall  elm. 

"  Sit  beside  me,  lad,"  he  said,  "  and  I'll  tell  you  all  about 
these  gay  birds,  and  how  to  know  them  by  their  plumage. 
Mark !  Yonder  comes  an  officer  in  black  and  scarlet,  wearing 
a  single  gold  epaulette  and  a  gold  gorget,  with  the  royal 
arms  in  gold  on  his  white  baldric.  That's  the  royal  artil 
lery,  Mr.  Cardigan.  That  gay  old  buck  beside  him  is  a  colo 
nel  of  foot.  He's  all  scarlet  trimmed  up  with  yellow  and 
white.  Most  of  them  wear  white  breeches  and  black  gaiters. 
There!  That  fellow  in  blue  and  silver,  with  orange  cuffs 
and  top-boots,  is  a  trooper  of  Light  Horse.  See  the  steel 
head-piece  with  its  roll  of  bear-skin  and  the  orange  plume  on 
the  left  side.  Some  of  'em  wear  red  cuffs  and  plumes,  but 
you  can  tell  them  by  their  laced  blue  vests  and  jack-boots. 
and  the  officers  by  white  baldrics  and  two  silver  epaulettes.'' 

399 


CAKDIGAN 

"  What  is  that  fellow  there  with  the  bear-skin  cap  and 
white  plume  and  tassels?"  I  asked,  with  a  pretence  of  in 
terest  which  in  my  anxiety  and  excitement  I  could  not 
feel.  The  splendid  uniform  which  I  pointed  out  glittered 
in  stripes  of  silver  and  pale  blue  embroidery  over  a  scarlet 
coat. 

"  That  lad  is  a  drummer  of  the  Grenadiers,"  said  Mount. 
"  The  soldier  beside  him  with  the  green  facings  and  green- 
and-gold  stock  is  one  of  the  Twenty-fourth  Foot — a  sergeant 
by  his  baldric  and  cross-spear.  Oh,  they're  gay  and  god 
less,  as  the  Weasel  would  say — " 

He  paused  and  looked  down.  The  slightest  tremor  twitch 
ed  his  underlip.  I  laid  my  hand  lightly  on  his  shoulder. 

"  Ay,  ay,"  he  said,  "  I'm  lost  without  him — I  don't  know 
what  to  do — I  don't  know.  I  see  him  in  my  sleep;  he  comes 
in  dreams  o'  the  woods.  I  wake  laughing  at  his  dry  jests,  and 
find  my  face  twisted  wi'  tears.  There's  never  a  leaf  stirs  on  a 
bough  but  I  listen  for  Cade's  padded  footfall  behind  me; 
there's  never  a  free  wind  blows  but  I  hark  for  his  voice  a-call- 
ing  me  back  to  the  sweet  green  forest  and  the  spice  o'  the 
birch  camp-fire.  Lad!  lad!  He's  dead  and  buried  these 
long  weeks,  and  I  am  but  a  weird-hound  on  a  spectre  trail, 
dogging  his  wraith." 

We  sat  there  on  the  grass  watching  the  marines  drilling; 
the  artillery  trotted  clanking  past  for  exercise  at  the  Fox 
Hill  redoubt,  and  presently  we  heard  the  dull  boom-booming 
of  their  cannon  along  the  west  shore  of  the  bay. 

"  They  even  shoot  at  the  rebel  fishes,"  sneered  Mount,  rais 
ing  his  voice  for  the  benefit  of  his  neighbours. 

I  sprang  to  my  feet  impatiently,  adjusted  my  sword,  and 
dusted  the  skirts  of  my  coat. 

"  It's  not  half-past  eleven  yet,"  observed  Mount. 

"I  don't  care,"  I  muttered;  "I  shall  go  to  Queen  Street 
now.  Come,  Jack!  I  cannot  endure  this  delay,  I  tell 
you." 

He  did  not  answer. 

"  Come,  Jack,"  I  repeated,  turning  around  to  summon 
him.  "  What  are  you  staring  at,  man  ?" 

As  I  spoke  a  roughly  clad  man  pushed  in  between  me  and 
Mount,  swinging  a  knobbed  stick;  another  man  followed, 

400 


DEATH     TO     THE     HIGHWAYMEN 


CAKDIGAN 

then  another.    Mount  had  leaped  to  his  feet  and  backed  up 
to  my  side. 

"  It's  Billy  Bishop's  gang !"  he  said,  thickly.  "  Leave  me, 
lad,  or  they'll  take  us  both !" 

Before  I  could  comprehend  what  was  on  foot,  half  a  dozen 
men  suddenly  surrounded  Mount,  and  silently  began  to 
close  in  on  him. 

"  Go !"  muttered  Mount,  fiercely,  pushing  me  violently 
from  him. 

"No,  you  don't!"  said  a  cool  voice  at  my  elbow;  "we 
want  the  Weasel,  too,  for  all  his  fine  clothes !" 

The  next  instant  a  man  in  a  red  neck-cloth  had  seized  my 
hands  in  a  grip  of  iron,  and,  ere  I  knew  what  had  happened, 
he  clapped  the  gyves  on  one  of  my  wrists.  With  a  cry  of  rage 
and  amazement  I  tore  at  my  manacled  hand,  and,  partly  help 
less  as  I  was,  I  sprang  at  the  fellow.  He  struck  me  a  fierce 
blow  with  his  cudgel,  and  ran  around  the  edge  of  the  sway 
ing  knot  of  human  figures  which  was  slowly  bearing  Mount 
to  the  ground. 

Then  Mount  rose,  hurling  the  pack  from  him,  and  striking 
right  and  left  with  his  huge  arms.  I  saw  the  nosegay  fly 
into  a  shower  of  blossoms,  and  the  silken  ribbons  flutter 
down  under  the  trampling  feet. 

For  a  moment  I  caught  Mount's  eye,  as  he  stood  like  a 
deeply  breathing  bull  at  bay,  then  swinging  the  steel  man 
acle  which  was  locked  on  my  right  wrist,  I  beat  my  way  to 
Mount's  side,  and  faced  the  thief-taker  and  his  bailiffs. 

They  rushed  us  against  the  fence  of  the  burying-ground, 
bruising  us  with  their  heavy  cudgels,  and  knocking  the  war- 
hatchet  from  Mount's  fist.  I  had  my  sword  out,  but  could 
not  use  it,  the  manacles  on  my  wrist  clogging  the  guard  and 
confusing  me.  In  the  uproar  around  us  I  heard  cries  of: 
"  Death  to  the  highwaymen !"  "  Kill  the  rogues !"  A  vast 
crowd  was  surging  up  on  all  sides;  soldiers  drew  their 
hangers  and  pushed  their  way  to  the  side  of  the  baffled 
bailiffs. 

"  Give  up,  Jack  Mount!"  cried  the  stout  man  with  the  red 
neck-cloth — "  give  up,  in  the  King's  name  I     It's  all  over  with 
you  now!     I've  run  you  from  Johnstown  on  a  broad  trail, 
God  wot!  and  I  want  your  brush  and  pads,  old  fox!" 
2c  401 


CARDIGAN 

Mount  displayed  his  broad  knife  coolly.  The  sunlight 
played  over  the  blade  of  the  murderous  weapon;  the  crowd 
around  us  broke  into  a  swelling  roar. 

Suddenly  a  soldier  struck  heavily  at  Mount  with  his 
hanger,  but  Mount  sent  the  sword  whirling  with  the  broad, 
short  blade  in  his  hand. 

"  If  you'll  let  this  gentleman  go,  I'll  give  up,"  said  Mount, 
sullenly.  "Answer  me,  Billy  Bishop!" 

"  Come,  come,"  said  Bishop,  in  a  bantering  voice,  "  we 
know  all  about  this  gentleman,  Jack.  Don't  you  worry; 
we'll  take  care  he  has  a  view  of  the  Roxbury  Cross-road  as 
well  as  you!" 

The  taunt  of  the  cross-roads  gallows  transformed  Mount 
into  a  demon.  He  hurled  his  huge  bulk  at  the  solid  mass  of 
people ;  I  followed,  making  what  play  I  could  with  my  small 
sword,  but  in  a  moment  I  was  down  in  the  dust,  blood  pour 
ing  from  my  face,  groping  blindly  for  the  enemies  who  were 
already  clapping  the  irons  on  my  other  wrist. 

Through  the  roar  and  tumult  of  frantic  voices  I  was 
dragged  into  a  stony  street,  crushed  into  the  pit  of  a  crowd, 
which  hurried  me  on  resistlessly.  White,  excited  faces  looked 
into  mine;  hundreds  of  clinched  fists  tossed  above  the  dense 
masses  on  either  side.  Again  and  again  I  plunged  at  those 
who  drove  me,  but  they  thrust  me  onward.  Far  ahead  in  the 
throng  I' saw  the  head  and  shoulders  of  Jack  Mount  overtop 
ping  them  all. 

The  mob  halted  at  a  cross-street  to  allow  a  cavalcade  of 
horsemen  to  pass.  Above  the  heads  of  the  people  I  could 
see  the  cavalry  riding,  sabres  bared,  the  riders  glancing  curi 
ously  down  at  the  rabble  and  its  prisoners.  A  coach  passed, 
escorted  by  dragoons;  a  gentleman  looked  out  to  seek  the 
reason  of  the  uproar.  From  his  coach  window  his  head 
leaned  so  close  to  me  that  I  could  have  touched  it.  The  gen 
tleman  was  Walter  Butler. 

"A  thief,  sir,"  cried  a  bailiff;  "taken  by  Bishop  on  the 
Mall.  Would  your  lordship  be  pleased  to  see  his  comrade, 
the  notorious  Jack  Mount  ?" 

"  Drive  on,"  said  Butler,  impassively.  Then  the  crowd 
began  to  hoot  and  jeer  as  the  bailiffs  pushed  me  forward  once 
more  through  the  dust  of  Cornhill  up  Queen  Street. 

402 


CARDIGAN 

And  so,  crushed  by  the  awful  disgrace  which  had  fallen 
on  me,  writhing,  resisting,  dishevelled,  I  was  forced  into  the 
Court-house  on  Queen  Street,  across  the  yard,  and  into  the 
gates  of  the  prison,  which  crashed  behind  me,  drowning  the 
roars  of  the  people  in  my  stunned  ears. 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

I  WAS  taken,  in  company  with  Jack  Mount,  on  Monday 
morning,  the  29th  of  October,  1774,  without  warrant  or 
process,  without  a  shadow  of  legal  right,  without  the  faintest 
justification  or  excuse,  save  that  I  had  been  seen  conversing 
with  Mount  on  the  Mall,  and  had  resisted  the  thief-taker 
Bishop  and  his  filthy  gang  of  bailiffs. 

From  the  29th  of  October  until  the  15th  day  of  December, 
chained  ankle  to  ankle,  wrist  to  wrist,  and  wearing  a  steel 
collar  from  which  chains  hung  and  were  riveted  to  the  rings 
on  my  legs,  I  lay  in  that  vile  iron  cage  known  as  the 
"  Pirates'  Chapel,"  in  company  with  Mount  and  eight  sullen, 
cursing  ruffians,  taken  in  piracy  off  the  Virginia  capes  by 
his  Majesty's  ship  Hebe,  consort  of  the  frigate  Asia. 

During  those  six  weeks  not  a  moment  passed  in  which  I 
despaired,  not  an  hour  dragged  out  its  chain  of  minutes  but 
I  believed  it  must  be  the  hour  for  my  delivery  from  this 
hideous  injustice. 

From  the  minute  I  had  entered  the  "  Chapel,"  tha  dull 
amazement  which  had  fettered  mind  and  body  in  a  strange 
paralysis  gave  way  to  a  deadly  patience.  My  benumbed 
faculties  grew  clear;  every  sense  became  abnormally  alert. 
Calmly  I  fared  the  terrible  dilemma;  I  probed  its  conse 
quences  coolly;  I  understood  that  while  Walter  Butler  held 
the  Governor's  ear,  and  while  the  Governor  held  the  civil 
power  at  his  own  pleasure,  and  used  it  as  whim  or  caprice 
moved  him,  I  could  neither  hope  for  a  hearing  before  a 
magistrate  nor  dare  expect  a  trial  by  my  countrymen.  The 
soiled  hand  of  England  had  polluted  the  ermine  of  the  judges; 
the  bayonets  of  England  cleared  the  court-rooms;  the  mock 
ing  Governor  brooded  in  Province  House,  watching  the 
structure  of  civil  rights  crumble  and  collapse,  while  his 
judges,  his  sheriffs,  his  bailiffs,  and  his  soldiers  prowled 

40-i 


CAKDIG AN 

through  the  debris  of  a  structure  which  had  been  reared  by 
my  own  people's  martyrdom. 

As  for  communication  with  the  outside  world,  with  friends, 
even  with  hostile  relatives,  or  with  the  Governor  himself, 
there  was  no  possible  chance.  Our  steel  cage  was  set  in  the 
centre  of  a  stone  chamber,  the  barred  windows  of  which  open 
ed  on  a  bare  stony  parade,  bounded  on  the  east  by  Cornhill, 
on  the  west  by  Treamount  Street,  and  on  the  south  by  School 
Street  and  the  dead  wall  enclosing  King's  Chapel.  There 
was  not  a  soul  to  be  seen  in  the  prison  or  outside  save  the 
marine  sentinels,  the  jailers,  the  warden  of  the  prison,  and 
the  eight  ruffians  who  were  caged  with  us,  among  whom  there 
was  but  a  single  Englishman. 

Our  cage  was  bedded  with  straw  like  a  kennel;  our  food 
was  brought  us  three  times  a  day,  in  earthen  bowls.  A 
wooden  spoon  went  with  each  bowl,  otherwise  the  feed  differed 
nothing  from  the  feed  of  dogs. 

Mount,  in  the  beginning,  had  conducted  like  a  madman, 
passing  swiftly  up  and  down  his  cage,  pacing  to  and  fro  along 
the  ranks  of  steel  bars,  blank  fury  glaring  from  his  eyes, 
jaw  hanging  like  the  jowl  of  a  committed  panther. 

All  that  first  night  he  stalked  the  cage,  brushing  the  bars 
with  brow  and  thigh,  and  deep  in  his  blue  eyes  there  burned 
a  terrible  light,  like  the  livid  witch-fires  which  flare  in 
haunted  swamps. 

At  first  the  manacled  ruffians  who  lay  about  us  in  the  straw 
watched  him  doggedly,  but  as  the  night  wore  on  and  his 
pacing  never  ceased,  they  growled  sullen  protest.  Then  he 
slowly  turned  on  them,  baring  his  white  teeth. 

From  that  moment  they  gave  him  room  and  he  ruled  the 
cage  as  a  silent,  powerful  beast  rules,  scarcely  conscious  of 
the  cringing  creatures  who  huddle  around  his  legs,  and  whose 
presence  cannot  invade  the  solitude  of  his  own  fierce  misery. 

The  light  in  the  stone  chamber  was  cool  and  gray — clear 
enough,  yet  never  tinged  with  sunlight.  Night  brought  thick, 
troubled  shadows  creeping  around  the  single  candle  which 
dripped  from  an  iron  socket  riveted  to  the  wall.  Then  the 
shades  of  the  jailers  fell  across  the  floor  as  the  large  lanthorn 
was  set  outside  in  the  corridor,  and  all  night  long  the  shuffling 
tread  of  the  sentry  marked  the  dead  march  of  time. 

405 


CARDIGAN 

For  three  days,  now,  I  had  not  touched  the  broth  which 
was  set  on  the  straw  beside  me;  I  do  not  know  that  I  should 
have  made  the  effort  to  eat  at  all,  except  for  an  accident.  It 
happened  in  this  manner :  one  day,  towards  the  middle  of 
December,  I  had  been  lying  on  my  belly,  trying  to  think  out 
something  of  that  future  which  I  had  not  yet  despaired  of. 
Musing  there,  nose  buried  in  my  arms,  I  lay  almost  on  the 
verge  of  slumber,  yet  with  one  eye  on  the  corridor  beyond, 
when  I  saw  distinctly  a  woman's  face  peer  through  the  thick 
grating  which  separated  the  corridor  from  our  stone  chamber. 

After  a  while  the  face  disappeared;  I  lay  still  a  moment, 
then  touched  Mount's  arm. 

He  turned  his  haggard  face  to  me. 

"  Bishop's  daughter  is  in  the  corridor,"  I  whispered. 

"  Where  ?"  asked  Mount,  vacantly. 

"  Out  there  behind  the  grating.  She  may  do  something 
for — for  you.  If  she  should,  I  think  we  had  better  try  to 
eat." 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  we  must  eat."  And  he  turned  with  a 
snarl  on  one  of  the  caged  wretches  behind  us  who  for  days 
had  been  battening  on  the  food  that  neither  Jack  nor  I 
touched. 

The  man  was  in  the  act  of  dragging  Mount's  bowl  and 
spoon  towards  his  own  nest  in  the  straw,  but  he  dropped  the 
food  and  shrank  back  as  Mount  seized  it  with  an  oath. 

I  also  secured  my  own  bowl  of  bread  and  broth,  and,  to 
gether,  we  ate  as  animals  eat,  eying  the  others  malevolently 
and  askance. 

That  night  Mount  lay  awake,  watching  the  grating.  At 
dawn  I  awoke  to  watch,  and  Mount  rolled  himself  up  into  a 
ball  of  buckskin  and  slept  the  first  peaceful  sleep  which  had 
come  to  him  since  his  taking. 

The  day  passed  in  horrible  monotony;  our  straw  had  be 
come  so  foul  that  my  head  swam  with  the  stench.  But 
towards  evening  came  a  jailer  and  two  soldiers,  who  raked 
the  filthy  straw  from  our  cage,  mopped  the  reeking  floor, 
and  when  it  had  partly  dried,  shook  us  down  a  bedding  of 
sweet  rye-straw,  into  which  we  burrowed  like  dogs. 

That  night  we  heard  the  noise  of  hammers  overhead,  and 
at  first  terror  seized  on  all  in  the  cage,  for  we  believed  that 

406 


CAKDIGAN 

workmen  had  come  to  build  gibbets.  In  the  morning,  when 
our  jailer  arrived  to  fetch  us  water,  I  spoke  to  him,  scarcely 
expecting  a  reply,  for  he  had  never  before  paid  the  faintest 
attention  to  questions  from  any  of  us. 

I  was  surprised,  therefore,  when  he  hesitated,  glanced  up 
at  me,  and  finally  informed  me  that  the  hammering  we 
heard  was  made  by  masons  and  carpenters  who  were  recon 
structing  the  upper  tiers  of  the  prison  for  the  new  warden 
and  his  family. 

Presuming  on  his  pleasant  manner,  I  continued  my  ques 
tioning,  but  he  soon  silenced  me  with  a  shake  of  his  head. 

"  I  know  nothing  about  your  case,"  he  said.  "  Matters 
move  slowly  here;  the  prison  is  crowded  with  rebels  who  have 
defied  the  Governor's  edict  against  public  assemblies.  Their 
cases  come  before  yours,  young  man." 

"  And  the  others  here  ?"  I  asked. 

He  paid  no  attention  to  my  question. 

I  asked  for  news  of  the  outside  world,  but  he  would  give 
me  none. 

Mount,  whose  morbid  curiosity  had  been  aroused  by  the 
sight  of  some  workmen  digging  holes  in  the  yard  outside  the 
prison,  stood  up  to  watch  them.  The  other  prisoners  also 
huddled  to  the  south  side  of  the  cage,  their  chains  making  a 
great  clanking  as  they  moved.  At  the  moment  when  their 
backs  were  turned  the  jailer  looked  at  them  significantly, 
then  at  me,  and,  to  my  horror,  passed  his  withered  fingers 
over  his  corded  throat. 

I  stared  at  him,  fascinated,  but  he  shrugged  his  stooping 
shoulders,  shuffled  off  to  the  wicket,  let  himself  out,  and 
slammed  the  grating. 

That  night  I  sat  close  to  Jack  Mount,  my  hand  on  his 
broad  shoulder,  crushing  back  the  lump  in  my  throat.  I 
believed  he  was  to  die  soon;  when,  I  did  not  know;  but  the 
grim  gesture  of  the  jailer  had  conveyed  a  hint  that  could  not 
be  mistaken. 

At  dawn  I  stood  up  to  gaze  fearfully  out  into  the  prison 
yard.  Snow  had  fallen;  workmen  were  digging  at  the  holes 
with  pick  and  crow. 

When  the  jailer  brought  breakfast  to  us,  he  laid  two 
bundles  of  sail-cloth  on  the  floor  under  the  windows  beyond 

407 


CARDIGAN 

our  cage.  Later  he  returned  and  carefully  nailed  each  strip 
of  cloth  over  the  windows,  hiding  our  view  of  the  prison 
yard. 

Mount  asked  him  why  he  did  that;  the  other  prisoners  be 
came  restless  and  suspicious,  calling  out  to  the  jailer  in 
Spanish  and  Portuguese;  even  the  Englishman  broke  his 
long  silence  with  a  sneering  inquiry  as  to  the  reason  of  cut 
ting  off  our  view.  The  jailer  continued  his  task  without 
answering  or  even  glancing  at  the  imprisoned  men,  who  now 
crowded  against  the  bars,  clamouring,  gesticulating,  and 
clanking  their  manacles.  They  were  stunted,  swarthy  fel 
lows,  bull-necked,  shaggy  of  hair  and  beard,  clothed  in  filthy 
shreds  of  finery  to  which  the  straw  stuck. 

Some  were  frightfully  scarred;  some  were  still  swathed  in 
bandages,  greasy  with  filth,  tied  over  unhealed  sores  or 
wounds.  One  of  them,  wTho  wore  large  gold  hoops  in  his 
ears,  had  lost  his  right  hand,  but  he  beat  against  the  steel 
bars  with  the  mangled  stump,  and  cried  ever :  "  Listen,  senor, 
you  good  fellow !  He !  Senor !  I  say,  senor !  They  will  to 
do  me  no  harm,  eh?  I  am  innocent,  what?  And  thus  I  say 
to  your  senor  Governor;  eh,  you  good  fellow?  What?  It  is 
the  holy  truth,  by  Jesu!" 

The  Englishman  laughed  scornfully :  "  They're  planting 
trees  in  the  yard  outside.  We'll  all  climb  them  soon,  won't 
we,  jailer?" 

"  By  God,"  muttered  Mount,  "  they  are  planting  gallows !" 

When  he  had  shrouded  the  windows,  the  jailer  scrambled 
briskly  to  the  floor  and  hastened  out  through  the  wicket,  un 
heeding  the  shouts  and  shrill  cries  of  the  ruffians,  who  had 
rushed  to  the  other  side  of  the  cage.  When  the  wicket 
slammed  the  panic  ceased;  a  dead  silence  followed,  then  one 
of  the  Spaniards  uttered  a  piercing  scream  and  fell  down 
into  the  straw,  tearing  and  biting  at  his  chains. 

"  Die  like  a  man !  Die  like  a  man !"  said  the  Englishman, 
contemptuously ;  but  terror  had  seized  another  of  the  ruffians, 
and  he  began  hobbling  around  the  cage,  shrieking  out  prayer 
on  prayer. 

Mount,  pale  and  composed,  lay  at  full  length  in  our  corner, 
watching  the  wicket,  a  straw  between  his  white  teeth.  I 
sat  beside  him,  my  heart  hammering  under  my  torn  shirt, 

408 


CARDIGAN 

resolutely  crushing  back  the  terror  which  was  feeling  my 
throat  with  icy  fingers. 

"  Do  you  believe  they  are  setting  the  gibbets  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Yes/'  he  said. 

After  a  moment  he  added:  "Why  did  you  not  leave  me, 
lad  ?  This  is  foul  company  for  a  gentleman  to  die  in." 

Terror  choked  me.  I  sank  face  downward  in  the  straw,  blind 
with  fright,  and  lay  there  shaking  till  the  candle  was  lighted 
and  the  lanthorn  in  the  corridor  sent  its  yellow  rays  through 
the  wicket. 

Black,  whirling  thoughts  swarmed  through  my  brain ;  again 
and  again  I  fought  the  battle  for  courage,  only  to  lose  it 
and  again  find  myself  faint  with  horror,  tearing  silently  at 
my  chains. 

"  Now  that  I  know  I  am  to  die,"  said  Mount,  calmly,  "  I 
shall  die  easily  enough.  It  was  hope  that  hurt.  I  shall  die 
easily." 

"  I  shall  die  hard,"  I  stammered ;  "  no  one  will  know  it,  but 
I  shall  die  hard  out  there  in  the  snow." 

"  I  will  stand  next  to  you  if  I  can,"  said  Mount.  "  If  you 
feel  weak,  reach  out  and  touch  me.  I  shall  jest  with  the 
hangman.  It  is  easy;  you  will  see  how  easy  it  can  be."  I 
raised  my  head  to  look  at  him. 

"You  care  nothing,"  I  said,  fiercely;  "you  will  see  Cade 
Renard,  and  you  care  nothing!  But  I  am  leaving  her!" 

"  God  will  right  all  that,"  said  Mount,  gravely. 

"  As  for  death,"  I  blurted  out,  pronouncing  the  word  with 
an  effort,  "  I  can  die  as  coolly  as  you.  But — but  a  gentle 
man's  son — on  the  gibbet — hanging  in  chains  between  thieves 
— the  disgrace — " 

Shame  strangled  the  voice  in  my  throat,  my  head  reeled. 

"  Our  Lord  so  died,"  said  Mount,  slowly. 

I  sat  still  as  a  stone.  Mount  gathered  his  knees  in  his 
hands  and  chewed  his  straw  peacefully,  blue  eyes  fixed  on 
vacancy. 

Presently  I  plucked  his  sleeve.  "  Yes,  lad,"  he  said,  with 
out  turning. 

"You  are  not  afraid  that  I  will  not  know  how  to  meet — 
it?"  I  asked. 

"  No." 

409 


CAKDIGAN 

"  I  am — am  not  afraid,"  I  whispered.  "  I  mean  to  bear 
myself  without  fear.  I  shall  speak  to  you  when — we  are 
ready.  You  shall  see  I  am  not  afraid.  Will  they  pray,  Jack  ?" 

"When?    Now?" 

"  No,  to-morrow." 

"  They  will  say  a  prayer  on  the  gallows,  lad." 

"Will  they  take  off  our  chains?" 

"  No." 

"  How — how  long  shall  we  hang  ?" 

"  A  long  time,  lad." 

"  Could  anybody  know  our  features  ?" 

"  The  weather  will  change  them.  Have  you  never  seen  a 
cross-roads  gibbet?" 

"No.    Have  you?" 

"Yes,  lad." 

After  a  silence  I  said,  "  I  hope  no  one  will  know  me." 

He  did  not  reply;  the  candle-flame  in  the  dripping  socket 
swayed  in  icy  draughts  from  the  wicket ;  the  Spaniards  mut 
tered  and  moaned  and  cried  like  sick  children;  the  English 
man  stood  in  silence,  staring  at  the  windows  through  which 
he  could  not  see. 

Presently  he  came  over  to  our  corner.  We  had  never  before 
spoken  to  him,  nor  he  to  us,  but  now  Mount  looked  up  with 
a  ghost  of  a  smile  and  nodded. 

"  It's  all  behind  that  window,"  said  the  Englishman,  jerk 
ing  his  thumb  over  his  shoulder ;  "  we'll  know  all  about  it 
this  time  to-morrow.  Is  the  young  one  with  you  afraid?" 

"  Not  he,"  said  Mount. 

The  Englishman  sat  down  on  his  haunches. 

"  What  do  you  suppose  it  is  ?"  he  asked. 

"What?    Death?" 

"Ay." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Mount. 

"  Nor  I,"  said  the  Englishman,  with  an  oath ;  "  and,"  he 
added,  "  I  have  dealt  it  freely  enough,  too.  Have  you  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Mount. 

"  And  he  ?"  glancing  at  me. 

"  Once,"  I  replied,  hoarsely. 

"  I've  watched  men  die  many  times,"  continued  the  Eng 
lishman,  rubbing  his  thumb  reflectively  over  his  irons,  "  and 

410 


CAKDIGAN 

I'm  not  a  whit  the  wiser.  I've  seen  them  hang,  drown,  burn, 
strangle — ay,  seen  them  die  o'  fright,  too.  Puff!  Out  they 
go  at  last,  and — leave  me  gaping  at  their  shells.  I've  slid 
my  hanger  into  men  and  the  blood  came,  but  I  was  none  the 
wiser.  What  makes  the  dead  look  so  small?  Have  you  ever 
killed  your  enemy  ?  Is  there  satisfaction  in  it  ?  No,  by  God, 
for  the  second  you  stop  his  breath  he's  gone — escaped !  And 
all  you've  got  is  a  thing  at  your  feet  with  clothes  too  large 
for  it." 

He  looked  at  me  and  played  with  his  wrist-chains.  "  You're 
six  feet,"  he  said,  musingly;  "you'll  shrink  to  five  foot  six. 
They  all  do.  I'll  wager  you  are  afraid,  young  man !" 

"You  lie!"  I  said. 

"  Spoken  well !"  he  nodded.  "  You'll  die  smiling,  yet.  As 
for  the  Spaniards  yonder,  they'll  sail  off  squalling.  It's  their 
nature ;  I  know." 

He  rose  and  glanced  curiously  at  Mount. 

"  You  have  not  followed  the  sea  ?"  he  asked. 

Mount  shook  his  head  absently. 

"Highway?" 

"  At  intervals." 

"  Well,  do  you  know  anything  about  this  place  called 
Death?"  asked  the  Englishman,  with  a  sneer. 

"  I  expect  to  find  a  friend  there,"  said  Mount,  looking  up 
serenely. 

At  that  moment  a  faint  metallic  sound  broke  on  our  ears. 
It  seemed  to  come  from  the  depths  of  the  prison.  We  listen 
ed  ;  the  Spaniards  also  ceased  their  moaning  and  sat  up,  alert 
and  quiet.  The  sound  came  again — silence — then  the  meas 
ured  cadence  of  footfalls. 

Mount  had  risen ;  I  also  stood  up.  The  Spaniards  burrowed 
into  the  straw,  squealing  like  rats.  Tramp,  tramp,  tramp, 
came  the  heavy  footfalls  along  the  corridor;  the  ruddy  gleam 
of  lanthorns  played  over  the  wicket. 

"Halt!    Ground  arms!" 

Lights  blinded  our  dazzled  eyes;  bayonets  glittered  like 
slender  flames. 

An  officer  stepped  to  the  lanthorn ;  a  soldier  raised  it ;  then 
the  officer  unrolled  a  parchment  and  began  to  read  very 
rapidly.  I  could  not  distinguish  a  word  of  it  for  the  cries  of 

411 


CARDIGAN 

the  Spaniards,  but  I  saw  the  jailer  unlocking  our  cage,  and 
presently  two  soldiers  stepped  in  and  drove  out  a  Spaniard 
at  the  point  of  their  bayonets. 

Shrieking,  sobbing,  supplicating,  the  Spaniards  were  thrust 
out  into  the  corridor;  the  Englishman  went  last,  with  a  con 
temptuous  nod  at  Mount  and  me,  and  a  cool  gesture  to  the 
soldiers  to  stand  aside. 

Mount  followed ;  but,  as  he  stepped  from  the  cage,  a  soldier 
pushed  him  back,  shaking  his  head. 

"  Not  yet  ?"  asked  Mount,  quietly. 

"  Not  yet,"  said  the  soldier,  locking  the  cage  and  flinging 
the  iron  key  to  the  jailer. 

Into  the  prison  passed  the  tumult ;  the  solid  walls  dulled  it 
at  last;  then  came  the  far  echo  of  a  gate  closing,  and  all 
was  silent. 

I  turned  to  the  draped  windows.  Dawn  whitened  the  sail 
cloth  that  hung  over  them.  A  moment  later  I  heard  drums 
in  the  distance  beating  the  "  Rogues'  March." 


CHAPTER  XXV 

WE  were  condemned  to  death  without  a  hearing  by  a 
military  court  sitting  at  Fort  Hill,  before  which  we 
appeared  in  chains.  The  19th  of  April  was  set  for  our  execu 
tion;  we  were  taken  back  to  the  south  battery  in  a  coach 
escorted  by  light  horse,  and  from  there  conveyed  through  the 
falling  snow  to  the  brick  prison  on  Queen  Street. 

This  time,  however,  we  were  not  led  into  the  loathsome 
"  Pirates'  Chapel,"  but  the  jailers  conducted  us  to  the  upper 
tier  of  the  prison,  recently  finished,  and  from  the  barred 
windows  of  which  we  could  look  out  into  Long  Acre  and 
School  Street  across  the  eight  gibbets  to  the  King's  Chapel. 
It  appeared  that  England  treated  condemned  highwaymen 
with  more  humanity  than  coast  pirates,  for  our  cells  were 
clean  and  not  very  cold,  and  our  food  was  partly  butcher's 
meat.  Besides  this,  they  allowed  us  a  gill  of  rum  every 
three  days,  an  ounce  of  tobacco  once  every  twenty-four  hours, 
and  finally  unlocked  our  irons,  leaving  us  without  manacles, 
in  order  that  the  sores  on  our  necks,  wrists,  and  legs  might 
heal. 

It  was  now  the  1st  of  January,  1775.  The  New  Year 
brought  changes  to  the  prison,  but  the  most  important  change, 
for  us,  was  the  appointment  of  Billy  Bishop  as  warden  of 
our  tier,  to  replace  Samuel  Craft,  now  promoted  to  chief 
warden  in  the  military  prison  on  Boston  Neck. 

The  warden,  his  wife,  and  his  children  occupied  the  apart 
ment  at  the  west  end  of  our  corridor ;  and  the  day  that  Craft, 
the  former  warden,  moved  out,  and  the  Bishop  family  moved 
in,  I  believed  firmly  that  at  last  our  fighting  chance  for  life 
had  come. 

All  day  long  I  watched  the  famous  thief -taker  installing 
his  family  in  their  new  dwelling-place ;  doubtless  Mount  also 

413 


CARDIGAN 

noted  everything  from  his  cell,  but  I  could  not  communicate 
with  him  without  raising  my  voice. 

Mrs.  Bishop,  a  blowsy  slattern  with  a  sickly,  nursing  child, 
sat  on  a  bundle  of  feather  bedding  and  directed  her  buxom 
daughter  where  to  place  the  furniture.  The  wench  had  lost 
her  bright  colour,  and  something,  too,  in  flesh.  Her  features 
had  become  thinner,  clean-cut,  almost  fine,  though  her  lips 
still  curved  in  that  sensual  pout  which  so  repels  me  in  man 
or  woman. 

That  she  knew  Mount  was  here  under  sentence  of  death 
was  certain;  I  could  see  the  sorrowful  glances  she  stole  at 
the  grating  of  his  cell  as  she  passed  it,  her  bare,  round  arms 
loaded  with  household  utensils.  And  once  her  face  burned 
vivid  as  she  stole  by,  doubtless  meeting  Mount's  eyes  for  the 
first  time  since  he  had  bent  in  his  saddle  and  kissed  her  in 
the  dark  mews  behind  the  "  Virginia  Arms  " — so  long,  so 
long  ago ! 

All  day  the  thief-taker's  family  were  busied  in  their  new 
quarters,  and  all  day  long  the  girl  passed  and  repassed  our 
cells,  sometimes  with  a  fearful  side  glance  at  the  gratings, 
sometimes  with  bent  head  and  lips  compressed. 

My  heart  began  singing  as  I  watched  her.  Surely,  here 
was  aid  for  us — for  one  of  us  at  all  events. 

The  early  winter  night  fell,  darkening  our  cells  and  the 
corridor  outside;  anon  I  heard  Bishop  bawling  for  candle 
and  box,  and  I  looked  out  of  my  grating  into  the  darkening 
corridor,  where  the  thief-taker  was  stumping  along  the  entry 
bearing  an  empty  candle-stick.  Mrs.  Bishop  followed  with 
the  baby;  she  and  her  husband  had  fallen  to  disputing  in 
strident  tones,  charging  each  other  with  the  loss  of  the 
candles.  As  they  passed  my  cell  I  moved  back;  then,  as  I 
heard  their  voices  growing  fainter  and  fainter  down  the 
corridor,  I  stepped  swiftly  forward  and  pressed  my  face  to 
the  grating.  Dulcima  Bishop  stood  within  two  feet  of  my 
cell. 

"  Will  you  speak  to  me  ?"  I  called,  cautiously. 

"  La !    Is  it  you,  sir  ?"  she  stammered,  all  a-tremble. 

"  Yes ;  come  quickly,  child !  There,  stand  with  your  back 
to  my  cell.  Are  you  listening?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  she  faltered. 

414 


CAEDIGAN 

"  Do  you  still  love  Jack  Mount  ?"  I  asked. 

Her  neck  under  her  hair  crimsoned. 

"  Will  you  help  him  ?"  I  demanded,  under  my  breath. 

"  Oh  yes,  yes,"  she  whispered,  turning  swiftly  towards  my 
grating.  "  Tell  me  what  to  do,  sir !  I  knew  he  was  here ;  I 
saw  him  once  in  the  '  Chapel/  but  they  boxed  my  ears  for 
peeping — " 

"  Turn  your  back,"  I  cut  in ;  "  don't  look  at  my  grating 
again.  Now,  listen !  This  is  the  1st  of  January.  We  are  to 
die  at  dawn  on  the  19th  of  April.  Do  you  understand  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  You  are  to  get  us  out,  do  you  understand,  child  ?" 

"  Yes — oh  yes,  yes !  How,  Mr.  Cardigan  ?  Tell  me  and 
I'll  do  it;  truly,  I  will!" 

"  Then  go  to  Jack's  cell  and  let  him  talk  to  you.  And  have 
a  care  they  do  not  catch  you  gossiping  with  prisoners !" 

The  girl  glanced  up  and  down  the  corridor;  a  deeper  wave 
of  red  stained  her  face,  but  already  I  heard  Mount  calling  her 
in  a  cautious  voice,  and  she  went,  timidly,  with  lowered  eyes. 

I  laid  my  ear  to  the  grating  and  listened;  they  were  whis 
pering,  and  I  could  not  hear  what  they  said.  Once  an  echo 
ing  step  in  the  entry  sent  the  girl  flying  across  the  corridor 
into  her  room,  but  it  was  only  a  night  keeper  on  his  rounds, 
and  he  went  on  quickly,  tapping  the  lock  of  each  cell  as  he 
passed.  When  the  glimmer  of  his  lanthorn  died  away  in 
the  farther  passages,  the  girl  flew  back  to  Mount's  grating.  I 
listened  and  watched  for  a  sign  of  Bishop  and  his  wife. 

"  Jack,"  I  called  out  in  a  low  voice,  "  tell  her  to  find  Shem- 
uel  if  she  can." 

"  Quiet,  lad,"  he  answered ;  "  I  know  what  is  to  be  done." 

Before  I  could  speak  again,  a  distant  sound  warned  the 
girl  to  her  room  once  more ;  presently  Bishop  came  stumping 
back,  holding  a  lighted  candle  and  still  disputing  with  his 
slattern  wife. 

"  You  did !  I  tell  you  I  seen  you !"  he  grunted.  "  You  left 
them  candles  in  the  wood-box." 

"Well,  why  didn't  you  say  so  before  you  tore  up  all  the 
parcels  ?"  demanded  his  wife,  shrilly. 

"  Oh,  quit  your  nagging!"  he  snarled.  "All  the  rogues  in 
the  prison  will  be  laughing  at  you !" 

415 


CARDIGAN 

"Let  'em  laugh!  Let  'em  laugh!"  she  panted,  waddling 
along  furiously  beside  him ;  "  I  can't  help  it.  I  know  I 
married  a  fool.  Bishop,  you're  a  fool,  and  you  know  it,  and 
everybody  knows  it,  so  don't  pick  on  me,  for  I  won't  have  it !" 

I  saw  the  termagant  as  she  passed  my  door,  tagging  after 
the  thief-taker,  who  looked  surly  enough,  but  evidently  was 
no  match  for  the  dirty  shrew  at  his  heels.  How  pitiful  and 
petty  their  anger  to  a  man  in  the  shadow  of  death !  But  their 
wrangling  voices  were  presently  shut  out  as  their  door 
slammed.  I  waited  a  while,  but  heard  nothing  more,  so  took 
myself  off  to  the  corner,  there  to  lie  on  my  iron  cot  and  try 
to  think. 

A  young  moon  hung  over  King's  Chapel,  shedding  a  tremu 
lous  light  on  the  snowy  parade.  Very  dimly  I  could  make  out 
the  tall  shapes  of  eight  gibbets,  stark  and  black  against  the 
starry  sky.  There  was  no  wind;  the  pendent  bundles  of 
bones  and  chains  which  hung  from  each  gibbet  did  not  sway 
as  they  had  swayed  that  morning  in  a  flurry  of  wind-driven 
snow,  while  the  brazen  drums  of  the  marines  played  eight 
souls  into  hell  eternal. 

I  watched  the  stars,  peacefully,  thinking  of  the  stars  that 
lighted  our  misty  hills  in  Johnstown;  I  thought  of  Silver 
Heels  and  my  love  for  her,  and  how,  by  this  time,  she  must 
deem  me  the  most  dishonourable  and  craven  among  men.  I 
thought  of  this  calmly;  long  since  I  had  weathered  the 
storms  of  grief  and  rage  impotent,  which  had  torn  me  with 
their  violence  night  after  night  as  I  lay  in  chains  in  the 
"  Chapel." 

No;  all  would  yet  be  well;  some  day  I  should  hold  her  in 
my  arms.  All  would  be  well ;  some  day  I  should  hold  the  life 
of  Walter  Butler  on  my  sword's  point,  and  send  his  red  soul 
howling!  Yes,  all  would  be  well — 

A  ray  of  light  fell  on  my  face ;  I  turned  and  sat  up  on  the 
edge  of  my  cot  as  the  key  in  the  cell  door  gritted. 

Full  under  the  flare  of  a  lanthorn  stood  a  man  in  a  mili 
tary  uniform  of  scarlet  and  green.  Behind  him  appeared 
Warden  Bishop,  holding  the  lanthorn. 

"  This  is  the  Weasel,  sir,"  he  said,  "  at  least  he  goes  by 
that  name,  although  the  Weasel  I  have  chased  these  ten 
years  was  a  different  cut  of  a  rogue.  But  it's  all  one,  cap- 

416 


CARDIGAN 

tain;  he  was  took  with  Jack  Mount,  and  he'll  dance  a  rope- 
jig  the  19th  of  April  next." 

"  Why  not  sooner  ?"  asked  the  officer,  gravely. 

I  started,  quivering  in  every  limb. 

"  Why  not  hang  him  sooner  ?"  inquired  Walter  Butler, 
moving  back  a  step  into  the  corridor.  He  limped  as  he 
walked  and  leaned  on  a  cane.  My  mark  was  still  upon  him. 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Bishop,  scratching  his  ears,  "  we  hung 
eight  coast-scrapers  in  November,  and  two  sheep-thieves  in 
December.  We've  got  three  pickpockets  to  swing  this  month, 
then  Symonds,  the  wharf-robber,  is  to  go  in  February. 
There's  no  room  in  March  either,  because  the  Santa  Cruz 
gang  goes  up  the  13th — seven  o'  them  in  chains — and  the 
gallows  yonder  ain't  dropped  last  year's  fruit  yet,  and  the 
people  hereabouts  complains  o'  the  stench  of  a  hot  day  and 
a  south  wind — "  » 

"  Can't  he  change  places  with  some  other  rogue  ?"  inter 
rupted  Butler,  impatiently. 

"  Lord,  no !"  cried  Bishop,  horrified.  "  Leastways,  not  un 
less  the  court-martial  directs  it,  sir.  They  don't  do  no  such 
things  in  Boston,  sir." 

"  They  do  in  Try  n  County,"  observed  Butler,  eying  me 
coolly.  Presently  a  ghastly  smile  stretched  his  pallid  face, 
but  his  yellow  eyes  glared  unchanging. 

"  Well,  well,"  he  said,  "  so  you  are  to  sail  to  glory  at  a  rope's 
end,  eh  ?  You  wouldn't  burn,  you  know.  But  the  flames  will 
come  later,  I  fancy.  Eh,  Mr. — er — Mr.  Weasel?" 

"  Are  your  broken  bones  mended  ?"  I  asked,  quietly. 

"  Quite  mended,  thank  you." 

"  Because,"  I  said,  "  you  will  need  them  some  day — " 

"  I  need  them  now,"  he  said,  cheerfully ;  "  I  am  to  wed  a 
bride  ere  long.  Give  me  joy,  Weasel !  I  am  to  know  the  day 
this  very  night." 

I  could  not  utter  a  sound  for  the  horror  which  froze  my 
tongue.  He  saw  it ;  fastened  his  eyes  on  my  face,  and  watch 
ed  me,  silent  as  a  snake  with  its  fangs  in  its  paralyzed  prey. 

"  Would  you  care  to  see  the  famous  Jack  Mount,  captain  ?" 
asked  Bishop,  swelling  with  pride.  "  I  took  him  myself,  sir. 
All  the  papers  had  it — I  have  the  cuttings  in  my  room ;  I  can 
fetch  them,  sir—" 

2o  417 


CARDIGAN 

Butler  did  not  appear  to  hear  him. 

"  Yes,"  he  continued,  thoughtfully,  "  I  ride  this  night 
to  Lexington.  She's  a  sweet  little  thing — a  trifle  skinny,  per 
haps.  I  think  you  have  seen  her — perhaps  picked  her  pocket. 
When  we  are  wed  we  shall  come  to  Boston — on  the  19th  of 
April  next." 

I  sprang  at  him;  I  had  gone  stone-blind  with  rage,  and 
knew  not  what  I  did;  the  steel  door  crashed  in  my  face;  the 
locks  rattled. 

Outside  the  door  I  heard  Butler's  cool  voice,  continuing: 
"  But  if  she  pleases  me  not,  to-night,  I  may  change  my  mind 
and  take  her  for  my  mistress — as  Sir  William  took  your 
aunt — as  my  friend  General  Gage  has  taken  your  old  sweet 
heart,  Mrs.  Hamilton.  One  wench  is  like  another  in  silken 
petticoats.  Sleep  soundly,  Master  Weasel.  If  I  find  her  too 
thin  for  my  taste  I'll  leave  her  for  Dunmore." 

All  that  night  I  lay  on  the  stone  floor  of  my  cell,  by  turns 
inert,  stupid,  frantic. 

When  Bishop  came  to  me  in  the  morning  he  thought  me  ill 
and  summoned  the  prison  apothecary  to  cup  me ;  but  ere  that 
individual  appeared  with  his  pills  and  leeches,  I  was  quiet 
and  self-possessed,  ready  to  argue  with  the  pill-roller  and 
convince  him  I  needed  no  nostrums.  All  that  day  I  watched 
for  Dulcima;  twice  I  saw  her  go  to  Mount's  cell,  but  could 
hear  nothing  of  what  they  whispered. 

Now  as  I  was  standing,  looking  out  of  the  grating,  I 
chanced  to  glance  down,  and  saw  that  the  apothecary  had  left 
his  case  of  herbs  and  drugs  on  a  bench  which  stood  just  out 
side  my  cell  door. 

Idly  I  read  the  labels  on  the  bottles  and  boxes :  "  Senna,  Jal 
ap,  Brimstone,  Es.  Cammomile,  Saffron  Pills,  Tine.  Opium — " 

Opium?     An  easy  death, 

I  gazed  at  the  dark  flask,  scarcely  a  foot  below  me,  but  as 
safe  from  me  as  though  under  lock  and  key.  Presently  I 
turned  around ;  my  cell  contained  a  cot,  an  iron  table,  a  bowl 
for  washing,  and  a  towel. 

After  a  moment's  thought  I  caught  up  the  coarse  towel, 
drew  from  it  some  threads,  twisted  them,  tied  on  more 
threads,  and  then,  greasing  the  cord  with  a  bit  of  soap,  made 
a  running  noose  at  the  end. 

418 


CARDIGAN 

There  was  nobody  in  the  corridor.  I  heard  voices  in 
Bishop's  room,  whither  the  apothecary  had  gone  to  examine 
the  baby  at  Mrs.  Bishop's  summons.  Very  carefully  I  let 
down  my  thread,  fishing  for  the  bottle's  neck  with  my  slip- 
noose;  but  the  neck  was  so  placed  that  I  could  not  snare  it, 
and  I  drew  up  another  bottle  instead,  bearing  the  label: 
"  Ex.  S.  Nig  rum," 

What  Ex.  S.  Nigrum  might  be  I  did  not  know,  but  hid 
the  tiny  flask  under  a  loose  fragment  of  stone  in  my  flooring 
where  a  black  beetle  had  his  abode.  Scooping  out  for  it 
a  little  hole  in  the  damp  earth,  I  buried  it,  not  harming  my 
friend  the  beetle ;  then  I  returned  to  fish  for  my  opium  flask, 
but  could  not  snare  it.  Finally  I  drew  in  my  string  just 
as  the  apothecary  came  out  with  Mrs.  Bishop  at  his  heels. 

He  stood  a  moment,  talking,  then  picked  up  his  cow-hide 
case,  closed  it,  and  took  himself  off. 

That  night,  when  the  corridor  was  dusky  and  Bishop 
sprawled  outside  his  door  to  smoke  his  evening  pipe,  I  called 
to  him  and  asked  him  for  a  jug  of  water.  He  fetched  it 
and  seemed  disposed  to  linger  and  chat  a  bit,  but  I  was 
uncommunicative,  and  presently  he  left  me  to  my  own 
devices,  lighting  the  lanthorn  in  the  corridor  ere  he  retired 
to  his  room  with  his  long  pipe. 

I  now  unearthed  my  flask  containing  the  Ex.  S.  Ni 
grum,  poured  a  single  drop  into  my  basin,  filled  it  up  with 
water,  and  then  returned  the  flask  to  its  hiding-place. 

"  We  shall  see,"  I  muttered,  "  whether  there  be  any  virtue 
of  poison  in  my  Nigrum"  and  I  caught  the  poor  little  black 
beetle  who  had  come  out  to  enjoy  the  lamplight. 

Now  as  the  drop  of  Ex.  S.  Nigrum  had  been  diluted  many 
hundreds  of  times  by  the  water  in  my  bowl,  I  argued 
that,  if  this  solution  dealt  death  to  the  beetle,  a  few  drops, 
pure,  would  put  Jack  Mount  and  me  beyond  the  hangman's 
hands. 

Poor  little  beetle !  how  he  struggled !  I  was  loath  to  sacri 
fice  him,  but  at  last  I  dropped  him  into  the  bowl. 

He  did  not  swim ;  I  watched  him  for  a  moment,  and  finally 
touched  him.  The  little  thing  was  stone  dead. 

That  I  had  a  terrible  and  swift  poison  in  my  possession 
I  now  believed;  and  my  belief  became  certainty  when  the 

419 


CARDIGAN 

apothecary  came  next  day  in  a  panic,  crying  out  to  Bishop 
that  he  had  lost  a  flask  of  nightshade  syrup,  and  feared  lest 
the  infant  might  find  it  and  swallow  the  poison. 

I  watched  Bishop  and  his  wife  rummaging  their  rooms 
in  a  spasm  of  panic,  and  finally  saw  them  go  off  with  the  pul 
ing  pill-roller  to  report  the  loss  to  the  head  warden. 

Later  that  day  a  turnkey  searched  my  cell,  but  did  not 
see  the  cracked  corner  of  the  stone  slab,  which  I  covered  with 
one  foot. 

When  all  was  quiet,  I  called  to  Dulcima  and  bade  her 
tell  Jack  Mount  that  I  had  the  poison  and  would  use  it  on 
us  both  if  we  could  not  find  other  means  to  escape  the 
gallows. 

The  poor  child  took  the  message,  and  presently  returned, 
wiping  her  tears,  to  say  that  Jack  had  every  hope  of  liberty; 
that  I  must  not  despair  or  take  the  life  which  no  longer  was 
at  my  own  disposal,  and  that  she,  Dulcima,  had  already 
communicated  with  Shemuel. 

She  handed  me  a  steel  awl,  telling  me  to  pick  at  the  mortar 
which  held  the  stones  on  my  window-ledge,  and  to  fill  these 
holes  with  water  every  night,  so  that  the  water  might  freeze 
and  crack  the  stones  around  the  base  of  the  steel  bars. 

I  had  never  thought  of  such  a  thing!  I  had  often  seen  the 
work  of  frost  on  stones,  but  to  take  advantage  of  nature  in 
this  manner  never  occurred  to  me. 

Eagerly  and  cautiously  I  set  to  work  with  my  little  steel 
pick,  to  drill  what  holes  I  might  before  Bishop  came.  But  it 
was  heart-breaking  labour,  and  so  slow  that  at  the  end  of  a 
week  I  had  not  loosened  a  single  bar. 

The  next  week  the  weather  was  bitterly  cold.  I  had  drilled 
some  few  holes  around  the  base  of  an  iron  stanchion,  and 
now  I  filled  them  with  water  and  plugged  them  with  a  paste 
of  earth  from  beneath  my  flooring,  threads  from  my  towel, 
and  some  soap. 

At  dawn  I  was  at  my  window,  and  to  my  delight  found  the 
stone  cracked;  but  the  iron  bar  was  as  firm  as  ever,  so  I  set 
to  drilling  my  holes  deeper. 

At  the  end  of  that  week  Dulcima  let  me  know  that  Jack 
had  loosened  one  bar  of  his  window,  and  could  take  it  from 
its  socket  whenever  I  was  ready.  So  I  worked  like  a  mad- 

420 


CARDIGAN 

man  at  my  bar,  and  by  night  was  ready  to  charge  the  holes 
with  water. 

It  was  now  the  middle  of  March;  a  month  only  remained 
to  us  in  which  to  accomplish  our  liberty,  if  we  were  to  escape 
at  all. 

That  night  I  lay  awake,  rising  constantly  to  examine  my 
work,  but  to  my  despair  the  weather  had  slowly  changed,  and 
a  warm  thaw  set  in,  with  rain  and  the  glimmer  of  distant 
lightning.  In  vain  I  worked  at  my  bar;  I  could  see  the 
dark  sky  brighten  with  lightning ;  presently  the  low  mutter  of 
thunder  followed.  An  hour  later  the  rain  fell  hissing  into 
the  melting  snow  in  the  prison  yard. 

I  sent  word  to  Mount  that  I  could  not  move  my  bar,  but 
that  he  must  not  wait  for  me  if  he  could  escape  from  the 
window.  He  answered  that  he  would  not  stir  a  peg  unless 
I  could;  and  the  girl  choked  as  she  delivered  the  message, 
imploring  me  to  hasten  and  loose  the  bar. 

I  could  not  do  it ;  day  after  day  I  filled  the  cracks  and  holes, 
waiting  for  freezing  weather.  It  rained,  rained,  rained. 

Weeks  before,  Mount  had  sent  the  girl  to  seek  out  Mr. 
Foxcroft  and  tell  him  of  my  plight.  I  also  had  sent  by  her 
a  note  to  Silver  Heels. 

The  girl  returned  to  report  that  Mr.  Foxcroft  had  sailed 
for  England  early  in  November,  and  that  nobody  there  had 
ever  heard  of  a  Miss  Warren  in  Queen  Street. 

Then  Butler's  boast  came  to  me,  and  I  sent  word  to  Shem- 
uel,  bidding  him  search  the  village  of  Lexington  for  Miss 
Warren.  I  had  not  yet  heard  from  him. 

Meanwhile  Mount  communicated,  through  Dulcima,  with 
the  Minute  Men's  Club,  and  already  a  delegation  headed 
by  Mr.  Revere  had  waited  on  Governor  Gage  to  demand  my 
release  on  grounds  of  mistaken  identity. 

The  Governor  laughed  at  them,  asserting  that  I  was  noto 
rious;  but  as  the  days  passed,  so  serious  became  the  demands 
from  Mr.  Revere,  Mr.  Hancock,  and  Mr.  Otis  that  the  Gov 
ernor  sent  Walter  Butler  to  assure  these  gentlemen  that  he 
knew  Mr.  Cardigan  well,  and  that  the  rogue  in  prison,  who 
pretended  to  that  name,  was,  in  fact,  a  notorious  felon  named 
the  Weasel,  who  had  for  years  held  the  highway  with  the 
arch-rogue,  Mount. 

421 


CARDIGAN 

At  this,  Shemuel  came  forward  to  swear  that  Mr.  Butler 
and  I  were  deadly  enemies  and  that  Butler  lied,  but  he  was 
treated  with  scant  ceremony,  and  barely  escaped  a  ducking 
in  the  mill-pond  by  the  soldiers. 

Meanwhile  Mr.  Hancock  had  communicated  with  Sir  John 
at  Onondaga,  and  awaited  a  reply  to  his  message,  urging  Sir 
John  to  come  to  Boston  and  identify  me. 

No  reply  ever  came,  nor  did  Sir  John  stir  hand  or  foot 
in  my  behalf.  Possibly  he  never  received  the  message.  I 
prefer  to  think  so. 

Matters  were  at  this  pass  when  I  finally  gave  up  all  hope 
of  loosening  my  window  bars,  and  sent  word  to  Jack  Mount 
that  he  must  use  his  sheets  for  a  cord  and  let  himself  out  that 
very  night.  But  the  frightened  girl  returned  with  an  angry 
message  of  refusal  from  the  chivalrous  blockhead. 

The  next  day  it  was  too  late;  Bishop's  suspicions  somehow 
had  been  aroused,  and  it  took  him  but  a  short  time  to  dis 
cover  the  loosened  bars  in  Jack  Mount's  cell. 

How  the  brute  did  laugh  when  he  came  on  the  work  ac 
complished.  He  searched  Mount's  cell,  discovered  the  awl 
and  a  file,  shouted  with  laughter,  summoned  masons  to  make 
repairs,  and,  still  laughing,  came  to  visit  me. 

I  had  not  dared  to  leave  my  poison-flask  in  the  hole  under 
the  stone.  What  to  do  with  it  I  did  not  know;  but,  as  I 
heard  Bishop  come  chuckling  towards  my  cell,  I  drove  the 
glass  stopper  into  the  flask  firmly  as  I  could,  then,  wiping  it, 
placed  it  in  my  mouth,  together  with  the  small  gold  ring  I 
had  bought  in  Albany,  and  which  I  had,  so  far,  managed  to 
conceal. 

It  was  a  desperate  move ;  I  undressed  myself  as  he  bade  me, 
and  sat  on  my  bed,  faint  with  suspense,  while  Bishop  rum 
maged.  He  found  the  hole  where  I  had  hidden  the  flask. 
The  awl  lay  there,  and  he  pouched  it  with  a  chuckle. 

When  Bishop  had  gone,  I  drew  the  deadly  little  flask  from 
my  mouth,  trembling,  and  chilled  with  sweat.  Then  I 
placed  it  again  in  its  hiding-place,  hid  the  ring  in  my  shoe, 
and  dressed  slowly,  brushing  my  shabby  clothes,  and  return 
ing  the  pockets  and  flaps  which  Bishop  in  his  careful  search 
had  rifled.  He  did  not  search  my  cell  again. 

And  now  the  days  began  to  run  very  swiftly.  On  the  18th 

422 


CAKDIGAN 

of  April,  towards  five  o'clock  in  the  evening,  a  turnkey,  pass 
ing  ray  cell,  told  me  that  General  Gage  was  in  the  prison 
with  a  party  of  ladies,  and  that  he  would  doubtless  visit  my 
cell.  Pie  added,  grimly,  that  the  death-wratch  was  to  be  set 
over  us  in  an  hour  or  two,  and  that,  thereafter,  I  could  ex 
pect  no  more  visitors  from  outside  until  I  held  my  public 
reception  on  the  gallows. 

Laughing  heartily  at  his  own  wit,  the  turnkey  passed  on 
about  his  business,  and  I  went  to  the  grating  to  listen  and 
look  out  into  the  twilight  of  the  corridor. 

Mrs.  Bishop,  whose  sick  baby  was  squalling,  lighted  the 
lanthorn  above  the  door  of  her  room,  and  retired,  leaving  me 
free  to  converse  with  Mount. 

"  Jack,"  I  called,  hoarsely,  "  the  death-watch  begins  to 
night." 

"Pooh!"  he  answered,  cheerfully.  "Wait  a  bit;  there's 
time  to  cheat  a  dozen  gibbets  'twixt  this  and  dawn." 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  bitterly,  "  we  can  cheat  the  hangman  with 
what  I  have  in  this  little  flask." 

"  You  must  give  it  to  the  girl,"  he  said.  "  She  will  flavour 
our  last  draught  with  it  if  worst  comes  to  worst.  She  will 
be  here  in  a  moment." 

At  that  instant  I  caught  sight  of  Dulcima  Bishop,  her 
cloak  all  wet  with  rain,  passing  quickly  along  the  corridor 
towards  Mount's  cell ;  and  I  called  her  and  gave  her  my  flask, 
glad  to  have  it  safe  at  least  from  the  search  which  the  death- 
watch  was  certain  to  make. 

The  poor  child  turned  pale  under  the  scarlet  hood  of  her 
witch-cloak  when  I  bade  her  promise  to  serve  us  with  a  kinder 
and  more  honourable  death  than  the  death  planned  for  us  on 
the  morrow. 

"  I  promise,  sir,"  she  said,  faintly,  raising  her  frightened 
white  face,  framed  by  the  wet  cloak  and  damp  strands  of 
hair.  She  added  timidly :  "  I  have  a  knife  for — for  Jack — 
and  a  file." 

"  It  is  too  late  for  such  things,"  I  answered,  quietly.  "  If 
it  is  certain  that  you  cannot  get  the  keys  from  your  father, 
there  is  no  hope  for  us." 

Her  face,  which  in  the  past  month  had  become  terribly 
pinched  and  thin,  quivered;  her  hands  tightened  on  the 

423 


CARDIGAN 

edge  of  the  grating.     "  If — if  I  could  get  the  keys — "  she 
began. 

"  Unless  you  do  so  there  is  no  hope,  child." 

There  was  a  silence ;  then  she  cried,  in  a  choking  voice :  "  I 
can  get  them !  Will  that  free  Jack  ?  I  will  get  the  keys ;  truly, 
I  will !  Oh,  do  you  think  he  can  go  free  if  I  open  the  cell  ?" 

"  He  has  a  knife,"  I  said,  grimly ;  "  I  have  my  two  hands. 
Open  the  cells  and  we  will  show  you." 

She  covered  her  eyes  with  her  hands.  Jack  called  to  her 
from  his  grating;  she  started  violently,  turned  and  went  to 
him. 

They  stood  whispering  a  long  time  together.  I  paced  my 
cell,  with  brain  a-whirl  and  hope  battering  at  my  heart  for 
the  admittance  I  craved  to  give.  If  she  could  only  open 
that  door ! — that  rusted,  accursed  mass  of  iron,  the  very  sight 
of  which  was  slowly  crushing  out  the  last  spark  of  manhood 
in  me! 

"Are  you  listening?"  whispered  Dulcima  at  my  grating 
again. 

"  Yes,"  I  answered. 

"  Watch  our  door  at  seven  to-night !"  she  said.  "  Be  ready. 
I  will  open  your  door." 

"  I  am  ready,"  I  answered. 

At  that  moment  the  sound  of  voices  filled  the  corridor ;  the 
girl  fled  to  her  room;  a  dozen  turnkeys  shuffled  past,  bowing 
and  cringing,  followed  by  Collins,  the  chief  warden,  an  old 
man  whom  I  had  not  before  seen.  Then  came  a  gentleman 
dressed  in  a  long  dark  cloak  which  hung  from  twin  epau 
lettes,  his  scarlet  and  gold  uniform  gleaming  below.  Was 
that  the  Governor? 

He  passed  my  cell,  halted,  glanced  around,  then  retraced 
his  steps.  After  a  moment  I  heard  his  voice  distinctly  at 
some  distance  down  the  corridor;  he  was  saying: 

"  The  highwaymen  are  here,  Mrs.  Hamilton — if — if  you 
would  care  to  see  them." 

I  sat  up  in  my  cot,  all  a-tremble.  Far  down  the  corridor 
I  heard  a  woman  laughing.  I  knew  that  laugh. 

"  But,"  persisted  the  Governor,  "  you  should  really  see 
the  highwaymen,  madam.  Trust  me,  you  never  before  be 
held  such  a  giant  as  this  rogue,  Jack  Mount." 

424 


CARDIGAN 

The  voices  seemed  to  be  receding;  I  sprang  to  my  grating; 
the  Governor's  bland  voice  still  sounded  at  some  distance 
down  the  passage;  Mrs.  Hamilton's  saucy  laughter  rang 
faintly  and  more  faintly. 

Half  a  dozen  keepers  were  lounging  just  outside  of  my 
cell.  I  summoned  one  of  them  sharply. 

"  Tell  General  Gage  that  Mrs.  Hamilton  knows  me !"  I 
said.  "  A  guinea  for  you  when  she  comes !" 

The  lout  stared,  grinned,  and  finally  shambled  away,  pur 
sued  by  the  jeers  of  his  comrades.  Then  they  turned  their 
wit  against  me,  begging  to  know  if  I  had  not  some  message 
for  my  friends  the  Grand  Turk  and  the  Emperor  of  China. 

I  waited  in  an  agony  of  suspense ;  after  a  long  time  I  knew 
that  the  keeper  had  not  delivered  my  message. 

In  the  fierce  returning  flood  of  despair  at  the  loss  of  this 
Heaven-sent  chance  for  life,  I  called  out  for  Bishop  to  come 
to  me ;  I  struck  at  the  iron  bars  until  my  hands  were  bathed 
in  blood. 

At  length  Bishop  arrived,  in  a  rage,  demanding  to  know 
if  I  had  lost  my  senses  to  create  such  an  uproar  when  his 
Excellency,  Governor  Gage,  had  come  to  inspect  the  prison. 

In  vain  I  insisted  that  he  take  my  message ;  he  laughed  an 
ugly  laugh  and  refused.  Mrs.  Bishop,  whose  infant  was  now 
very  sick,  came  out,  wrapped  in  her  shawl,  carrying  the 
baby  to  the  prison  hospital  for  treatment,  and  a  wrangle 
began  between  her  and  Bishop  concerning  supper. 

My  words  were  lost  or  ignored;  Bishop  demanded  his  sup 
per  at  once,  and  his  wife  insisted  that  she  must  take  the  child 
to  the  hospital.  The  precious  moments  flew  while  they  stood 
there  under  my  grating,  disputing  and  abusing  each  other, 
while  the  sick  child  wailed  ceaselessly  and  dug  its  puny 
fingers  into  the  sores  on  its  head. 

Presently  a  keeper  passed,  saying  that  the  Governor  wished 
to  know  what  such  indecent  noise  meant;  and  Bishop,  red 
with  rage,  turned  on  his  wife  and  cursed  her  ferociously 
until  she  retreated  with  the  moaning  child. 

"Draw  me  a  measure  o'  buttry  ale;  d'ye  hear,  ye  slut?" 
he  growled,  following  her.  "  If  I'm  to  eat  no  supper  till 
you  get  back,  I'll  want  a  bellyful  o'  malt  to  stay  me !" 

But  Mrs.  Bishop  waddled  on  contemptuously,   declaring 

425 


CARDIGAN 

she  meant  to  go  to  the  hospital,  and  that  he  could  die  o'  thirst 
for  aught  she  cared. 

Dulcima,  who  stood  in  her  doorway  across  the  corridor, 
watched  the  scene  stolidly.  Bishop  turned  on  her  with  an 
oath,  and  ordered  her  to  draw  his  evening  cup;  she  unhooked 
the  tankard  which  hung  under  the  lanthorn,  hesitated,  and 
looked  straight  at  her  father.  He  gave  her  a  brutal  shove, 
demanding  to  know  why  she  dawdled  while  he  thirsted,  and 
the  girl  moved  off  sullenly,  with  flaming  cheeks  and  eyes 
averted. 

When  she  returned  from  the  buttry  I  saw  the  warden 
take  the  frothing  tankard,  brush  the  foam  away  with  his 
forefinger,  and  drain  the  measure  to  the  dregs. 

He  handed  the  empty  tankard  to  his  daughter,  smacking 
his  lips  with  a  wry  face,  and  drawing  the  back  of  his  hand 
across  his  chin.  Then  he  became  angry  again. 

"  Ugh !"  he  muttered ;  "  the  ale's  spoiled !  What's  in  it,  you 
baggage?"  he  demanded,  suddenly  swinging  around  on  his 
daughter.  "  Draw  me  a  cider  cup  to  wash  this  cursed  brew 
out  o'  me !" 

There  was  a  crash.  The  girl  had  dropped  the  tankard 
at  her  feet. 

Quick  as  a  flash  Bishop  raised  his  hand  and  dealt  his 
daughter  a  blow  on  the  neck  that  sent  her  to  her  knees. 

"  Break  another  pot  and  I'll  break  your  head,  you  drab !" 
he  roared.  "Get  up  or  I'll—" 

He  choked,  gasped,  lifted  his  shaking  hand  to  his  mouth, 
and  wiped  it. 

"  Curse  that  ale!"  he  stammered;  "  it's  sickened  me  to  the 
bones!  What  in  God's  name  is  in  that  brew?" 

He  turned  and  pushed  open  his  door,  lurching  forward 
across  the  threshold  with  dragging  feet.  A  moment  later 
Dulcima  passed  my  cell,  her  trembling  hands  over  her  eyes. 

I  went  to  my  cot  and  lay  down,  face  buried,  teeth  set  in  my 
lip.  A  numbness  which  at  moments  dulled  the  throbbing  of 
my  brain  seemed  to  settle  like  chains  on  every  limb. 

Dully  I  waited  for  the  strokes  of  the  iron  bell  sounding 
the  seventh  hour;  a  lassitude  crept  over  me — almost  a  stu 
por.  It  was  not  despair;  I  had  long  passed  that;  it  was 
Hope,  slowly  dying  within  my  body. 

42G 


CARDIGAN 

A  few  moments  afterwards  a  strange  movement  inside  my 
cell  aroused  me,  and  I  opened  my  hot  eyes. 

In  the  dusk  I  saw  the  figure  of  a  man  seated  beside  my 
cot;  peering  closer,  I  perceived  his  eyes  were  fixed  steadily 
on  me.  I  sat  up  on  my  bed  and  asked  him  what  he  desired. 

He  did  not  answer.  A  ray  of  candle-light  stealing  through 
the  barred  window  fell  on  the  bright  barrel  of  a  pistol  which 
lay  across  his  knees. 

"  What  do  you  wish  ?"  I  repeated,  the  truth  dawning  on 
me.  "  Can  you  not  watch  me  from  the  corridor  as  well  as 
in  my  cell  ?" 

There  was  no  reply. 

Then  at  last  I  understood  that  this  gray  shape  brooding 
there  at  my  bedside  was  a  guard  of  the  death-watch,  pledged 
never  to  leave  me,  never  to  take  his  eyes  from  me  for  an  in 
stant  until  the  warden  of  the  prison  delivered  me  into  the 
hands  of  the  sheriff  on  the  morrow  for  my  execution. 

Ding  -  dong !  Ding  -  dong !  The  prison  bell  was  at  last 
striking  the  seventh  hour.  I  lay  still  in  my  blanket,  counting- 
the  strokes  which  rang  out  in  thin,  peevish  monotony,  like 
the  cracked  voice  of  a  beldame  repeating  her  petty  woes. 

At  the  last  jangle,  and  while  the  corridor  still  hummed 
with  the  thin  reverberations,  I  rose  and  began  to  pace  my 
narrow  cell,  head  bent  on  my  breast,  but  keeping  my  eyes 
steadily  on  the  grating. 

The  guard  of  the  death-watch  observed  me  sullenly.  T 
drank  from  my  pot  of  water,  bathed  my  feverish  face,  and 
walked  to  the  grating. 

The  lanthorn  above  Bishop's  doorway  burned  brightly;  the 
corridor  was  quiet.  No  sound  came  from  Mount's  cell. 
I  could  hear  rain  drumming  on  a  roof  somewhere,  that  was 
all. 

Bishop  was  due  at  seven  o'clock  to  inspect  our  bolts  and 
bars ;  he  had  always  arrived  punctually.  I  watched  his  door. 
Presently  it  occurred  to  me  that  I  had  not  seen  Bishop  since 
six  o'clock  when  he  had  gone  into  his  room,  cursing  the  ale 
which  his  daughter  had  fetched  him.  This  was  unusual;  he 
had  never  before  failed  to  sit  there  on  his  threshold  after 
supper,  smoking  his  long  clay  pipe,  and  blinking  contentedly 
at  our  steel  bolts. 

427 


CARDIGAN 

Minute  after  minute  passed ;  behind  me  I  heard  my  guard 
beating  a  slight  tattoo  with  his  heavy  boots  on  the  stones. 

Suddenly,  as  I  stood  at  my  grating,  I  saw  Dulcima  Bishop 
step  from  the  warden's  door,  close  it  behind  her,  and  noise 
lessly  lock  it  on  the  outside.  The  light  of  the  lanthorn  fell 
full  on  her  face;  it  was  ghastly.  The  girl  stood  a  moment, 
swaying,  one  hand  on  the  door;  then  she  made  a  signal  tow 
ards  Mount's  cell;  and  the  next  instant  I  saw  Jack  Mount 
bound  noiselessly  into  the  corridor.  He  caught  sight  of  me, 
held  up  a  reddened,  dripping  knife,  pointed  to  my  cell  door, 
and  displayed  a  key. 

Instantly  I  turned  around  and  sauntered  away  from  the 
grating  towards  my  tumbled  bed.  As  I  passed  the  death- 
watch,  he  rose  and  walked  over  to  the  outer  window  where 
my  pot  of  water  stood  to  cool. 

Eying  me  cautiously  he  lifted  the  jug  and  drank,  then 
set  the  pot  back  and  silently  resumed  his  seat,  laying  his 
pistol  across  his  knees. 

How  was  I  to  get  at  him?  If  Mount  made  the  slightest 
noise  in  the  corridor,  the  guard  was  certain  to  go  to  the 
grating. 

Pretending  to  be  occupied  in  smoothing  out  my  tumbled 
bedding,  I  strove  to  move  so  that  I  might  get  partly  behind 
him,  but  the  fellow's  suspicions  seemed  to  be  aroused,  for 
he  turned  his  head  as  I  moved,  and  watched  me  steadily. 

To  spring  on  him  meant  to  draw  his  fire,  and  a  shot  would 
be  our  undoing.  But  whatever  I  did  must  be  done  now;  I 
understood  that. 

As  I  hesitated  there,  holding  the  blanket  in  my  hands  as 
though  I  meant  to  fling  it  on  the  bed  again,  the  lamp  in  the 
corridor  suddenly  went  out,  plunging  my  cell  in  darkness. 

The  guard  sprang  to  his  feet ;  I  fairly  flung  my  body  at  him, 
landing  on  him  in  a  single  bound,  and  hurling  him  to  the 
stone  floor. 

Instantly  the  light  of  the  lanthorn  flooded  my  cell  again; 
I  heard  my  iron  door  opening;  I  crouched  in  fury  on  the 
struggling  man  under  me,  whose  head  and  arms  I  held  crush 
ed  under  the  thick  blanket.  Then  came  a  long,  silent  strug 
gle,  but  at  last  I  tore  the  heavy  pistol  from  his  clutch,  beat 
him  on  the  head  with  the  steel  butt  of  it  until,  through  the 

428 


CARDIGAN 

blanket  over  his  face,  red,  wet  stains  spread,  and  his  straining 
chest  and  limbs  relaxed. 

Pistol  in  hand,  I  rose  from  the  lifeless  heap  on  the  floor, 
and  turned  to  find  my  cell  door  swinging  wide,  and  Dulcima 
Bishop  watching  me,  with  dilated  eyes. 

"  Is  he  dead  ?"  she  asked,  and  broke  out  in  an  odd  laugh 
which  stretched  her  lips  tight  over  her  teeth.  "  Best  end  him 
now  if  he  still  lives,"  she  added,  with  a  sob ;  "  death  is  afoot 
this  night,  and  I  have  done  my  part,  God  wot !" 

I  struck  the  man  again — it  sickened  me  to  do  it.  He  did 
not  quiver. 

She  lifted  the  lanthorn  from  the  floor  and  motioned  me 
to  follow.  At  the  end  of  the  corridor  Mount  stood,  wiping 
his  reeking  knife  on  the  soft  soles  of  his  moccasins. 

"  The  trail's  clear,"  he  whispered,  gayly ;  "  now,  lass,  where 
is  the  scullions'  stairway?  Blow  out  that  light,  Cardigan! 
Quiet,  now — quiet  as  a  fox  in  the  barn !  Give  me  your  hand, 
lass — and  t'other  to  the  lad." 

The  girl  caught  me  by  the  arm  and  blew  out  the  light,  then 
she  drew  me  into  what  seemed  to  be  an  impenetrable  wall 
of  darkness.  Groping  forward,  I  almost  fell  down  a  steep 
flight  of  stone  steps  which  appeared  to  lead  into  the  bowels 
of  the  earth.  Down,  down,  then  through  a  passage,  Mount 
leading,  the  girl  fairly  dragging  me  off  my  feet  in  her  excite 
ment,  and  presently  a  wooden  door  creaked  open,  and  a  deluge 
of  icy  water  dashed  over  me. 

It  was  rain;  I  was  standing  outside  the  prison,  ankle-deep 
in  mud,  the  free  wind  blowing,  the  sleet  driving  full  in  my 
eyes. 

"  Oh,  this  is  good,  this  is  good !"  muttered  Mount,  in  ec 
stasy,  spreading  out  his  arms  as  though  to  take  the  world  to 
his  sick  heart  once  more.  "  Smell  the  air,  lad !  Do  you  smell 
it?  God!  How  sweet  is  this  wind  in  my  throat!" 

The  girl  shivered;  her  damp,  dishevelled  hair  blew  in  her 
face.  She  laid  one  shaking  hand  on  Mount's  wet  sleeve, 
then  the  other,  and  bowed  her  head  on  them,  sobbing  con 
vulsively. 

Mount  bent  and  kissed  her. 

"  I  swear  I  will  use  you  kindly,  child,"  he  said,  soberly. 
"  Come,  lass,  gay !  gay !  What  care  we  for  a  brace  o'  dead 

429 


CAEDIGAN 

turnkeys?  Lord,  how  the  world  will  laugh  at  Billy  Bishop 
when  they  hear  I  stole  his  girl,  along  with  the  prison  keys! 
Laugh  with  me,  lass!  I  mean  honestly  and  kindly  by  you; 
I'm  fit  for  a  rope  at  the  gibbet's  top  if  I  use  you  ill!" 

"  Would — would  you  truly  wed  me  ?"  she  stammered,  rais 
ing  her  white  face  to  his. 

He  swore  roundly  that  he  would  wed  her  and  end  his  days 
in  serving  her  on  his  marrow-bones  for  gratitude. 

And,  as  he  made  his  vow,  a  startling  change  passed  over 
her  face;  she  laughed,  turned  her  bright,  feverish  eyes  on  us 
with  a  reckless  toss  of  her  head,  and  drew  the  poison-flask 
from  her  bosom. 

"  You  think,"  she  said,  "  that  we  no  longer  need  this  little 
friend  to  sorrow  ?  You  are  wrong !" 

And,  ere  Mount  or  I  could  move,  she  raised  the  tiny  flask 
betwixt  forefinger  and  thumb,  and  dropped  the  dark  scarlet 
contents  between  her  teeth. 

"  I  drink  to  your  freedom,  Jack,"  she  said,  blindly,  reeling 
into  Mount's  arms.  "  Your — freedom — Jack,"  she  gasped, 
smiling ;  "  my  father  drank  to  it — in  ale.  He  lies  dead  on 
the  floor  of  it.  All  this — for — for  your  freedom,  Jack !" 

Mount  was  kneeling  in  the  mud;  she  lay  in  his  arms,  the 
sleet  pattering  on  her  upturned  face. 

"  For  your  freedom,"  she  murmured,  drowsily — "  a  maid 
must  burn  in  hell  for  that.  I  burn,  I  burn!  Oh,  the  fire 
in  me,  Jack!" 

Her  body  writhed  and  twisted ;  her  great  bright  eyes  never 
left  his.  Presently  she  lay  still.  A  moment  later  the  prison 
bell  broke  out  wildly  through  the  storm,  and  a  gunshot  rang 
from  the  north  guard-house. 

We  placed  the  dead  child  under  a  tree  in  the  new  grass, 
and  covered  her  face  with  willow  branches,  all  silky  with 
the  young  buds  of  April.  Then,  bending  almost  double, 
we  ran  south  along  the  prison  wall,  turning  west  as  the  wall 
turned,  and  presently  came  to  the  wooden  fence  of  King's 
Chapel. 

Mount  gained  the  top  of  the  fence  from  my  shoulders,  and 
drew  me  up.  Then  we  dropped. 

There  were  lights  moving  in  Governor's  Alley  and  the 
mews;  through  the  sleet  great  snow-flakes  whirled  into  the 

430 


CARDIGAN 

slush  of  the  filthy  street.  The  prison  bell  rang  frantically 
behind  us. 

"  It's  the  alarm,  Jack  1"  I  whispered. 

He  gave  me  a  dull  look,  then  shivered  in  his  wet  buck 
skins. 

"  She  can't  lie  out  there  in  the  sleet,"  he  muttered,  blood 
shot  eyes  roving  restlessly  in  the  darkness.  "  I  am  going 
back !" 

"For  God's  sake,  don't  do  that!"  I  begged;  but  he  cursed 
me  and  brushed  me  aside. 

Back  over  the  wall  he  dropped.  I  started  to  follow,  but 
he  shoved  me  roughly  and  bade  me  mind  my  own  concerns. 

I  leaned  against  the  foot  of  the  wall;  the  sleet  pelted  me; 
I  bared  my  throat  to  it.  After  a  while  I  heard  Mount's 
labouring  breath  on  the  other  side  of  the  wall,  and  I  climbed 
up  to  aid  him. 

He  held  the  dead  child  in  his  arms;  I  took  the  body  from 
him;  he  climbed  over,  and  received  it  again,  bearing  it  as 
though  it  were  but  a  snow-flake's  weight  in  his  great  arms. 

"  Go  you  and  find  a  pick  and  spade  in  the  mews,  yonder," 
he  said.  There  was  a  fixed  stare  in  his  eyes  that  alarmed  me. 
"  Damn  you,"  he  said,  "  it  is  the  least  we  can  do !" 

"  Jack,"  I  said,  "  we  cannot  stay  here  to  be  taken  again ! 
You  cannot  bury  her  now ;  the  ground  is  frosted ;  people  will 
hear  us!" 

He  glared  at  me,  then  swung  his  heavy  head  right  and  left. 
The  next  moment  he  started  running  through  the  storm, 
cradling  the  burden  in  his  arms.  I  followed,  not  knowing 
what  he  meant  to  do. 

At  the  King's  Chapel  gate  he  turned  in  along  a  dim  gravel 
path,  hedged  with  dripping  box.  Around  us  lay  the  head 
stones  of  the  dead,  with  here  and  there  a  heavy  tomb  looming 
up  in  the  storm  around  us. 

For  a  moment  he  halted,  peering  about  him.  A  square 
white  sepulchre  surmounted  a  mound  on  his  right;  he  mo 
tioned  me  to  hold  the  dead  child  and  stepped  forward,  laying 
his  hands  on  the  slab.  Then,  with  a  heave  of  his  powerful 
back,  he  lifted  the  huge  stone,  laying  open  the  shadowy 
sepulchre  below. 

Again  he  took  the  dead  in  his  arms,  wiped  the  rain-drops 

431 


CAKDIGAN 

from  the  face,  laid  the  limp  form  in  the  sepulchre,  and 
smoothed  the  clothing.  Together  we  replaced  the  slab;  it 
taxed  all  my  strength  to  lift  one  end  of  it.  The  bell  of  the 
prison  clanged  frantically. 

Mount  stood  back,  breathing  heavily,  hands  hanging.  I 
waited  in  silence. 

"  What  a  little  thing  she  was !"  he  muttered;  "  what  a  child 
— to — do — that!  Do  you  think  she  will  lie  easy  there?" 

"  Yes,"  I  said. 

At  the  sound  of  my  voice  Mount  roused  and  turned  sharp 
ly  to  me. 

"The  thief  and  the  thief-taker's  daughter!"  he  whispered, 
with  a  ghastly  laugh.  "  They'll  make  a  book  of  it — I  war 
rant  you ! — and  hawk  it  for  a  penny  in  Boston  town !" 

He  touched  the  slab,  all  glistening  with  sleet,  gripped 
the  edge  of  the  sepulchre,  turned,  and  shook  his  fist  at  the 
prison.  Then,  quietly  passing  his  arm  through  mine,  he  led 
the  way  out  of  the  chapel  yard,  guiding  me  between  the 
soaking  hedges  to  the  iron  gate,  and  so  out  into  the  black 
alley. 

Almost  immediately  a  man  shouted :  "  Stop  thief !  Turn 
out  the  guard !"  and  a  soldier,  in  the  shadow  of  the  wall,  fired 
at  us. 

Mount  glared  at  him  stupidly,  hands  dangling;  the  soldier 
ran  up  to  him  and  presented  his  bayonet,  calling  on  us  to 
give  up. 

The  sound  of  his  voice  appeared  to  rouse  Mount  to  fury; 
he  seized  the  musket,  wrenched  it  from  the  soldier,  and  beat 
him  into  the  mud.  Then  swinging  the  weapon  by  the  barrel, 
he  knocked  down  two  bailiffs  who  were  closing  in  on  us,  and 
started  after  another,  with  a  yell  of  rage. 

"Jack!  Jack!"  I  cried.  "Are  you  mad?  Follow  me; 
quick !  We  can't  stay  here,  you  great  fool !" 

He  heard  me,  halted,  hurled  the  musket  after  his  flying 
foe,  and  broke  out  into  a  harsh  laugh. 

"  Come  on,  lad,"  he  said.  "  I  did  but  mean  to  warm  my 
blood  and  purge  it  of  the  prison  rust.  Truly  I  think  we  must 
make  for  the  purlieus  till  they  lose  our  trail!" 

Through  reeking  lanes,  foul  alleys,  and  muddy  mews  where 
gaunt  dogs  battled  over  scraps  with  gaunter  children,  we  ran, 

432 


CARDIGAN 

or  lurked  to  listen,  shunning  the  bleared  lanthorn-light,  shin 
ing  through  the  storm. 

At  times  the  horror  of  that  flight  even  now  appalls  me — 
that  flight  through  the  starving  town  o'  Boston,  where  old 
women  mouthed  at  us  with  their  scurvy-cankered  gums; 
where,  slinking  along  dead  walls,  we  stumbled  over  old  men 
patiently  picking  with  skinny  fingers  in  the  rotted  herbage 
for  roots  to  stay  their  starved  stomachs'  craving;  where,  in 
doorways,  naked  children,  with  bellies  bloated  by  famine, 
stared  at  us  out  of  hollow  eyes. 

The  town  appeared  to  be  alive  with  British  soldiery; 
mounted  pickets  roved  through  the  streets;  parties  of  offi 
cers  passed  continually ;  squad  after  squad  of  marines  crossed 
our  path,  and  at  first  we  thought  that  all  this  show  of  troops 
was  due  to  us  and  our  escape,  the  hour  being  late  for  so  many 
troops  to  be  abroad. 

"  There's  something  else  in  the  wind,"  muttered  Mount, 
as  we  hid  in  Belcher's  Lane  to  avoid  a  party  of  dragoons; 
"  all  this  pother  is  never  made  on  our  account.  There's  devil 
try  a-brewing,  lad.  We  had  best  start  for  the  '  Wild  Goose/  " 

Through  the  mud  of  Cow  Lane,  Flounder  Mews,  and  Bat 
tery  Marsh  we  crept  on,  on,  along  back  roads  and  shiny  lanes, 
then,  alarmed  by  a  galloping  dragoon,  we  threaded  the  marshy 
alleys  to  the  north,  from  Hancock's  Wharf  clear  around  the 
peninsula  to  Back  Street  and  Link  Alley. 

From  thence  through  Hog  Alley  and  Frog  Lane  south 
towards  the  Neck,  only  to  be  frightened  north  once  more  by 
the  mad  gallop  of  dragoons,  and  so  to  hide  in  Mackerel 
Lane. 

And  I  am  minded,  as  I  recall  that  night's  skulking  flight, 
of  a  bandy  little  watchman  who,  at  the  mere  sight  of  us,  did 
drop  his  lanthorn  and  make  off,  bawling  for  aid,  until  Jack 
came  up  with  him  and  fetched  him  a  clip  which  knocked 
him  and  his  noisy  rattle  into  the  mud  of  Mackerel  Lane. 

We  fled  as  though  all  Boston  ran  snapping  at  our  shin- 
bones,  and  at  last  we  turned,  unmolested,  into  Green  Lane, 
and  so  came  in  sight  of  the  "  Wild  Goose  Tavern."  Then,  as 
we  dropped  into  a  breathless  trot  and  began  to  plod  across 
Chambers  Street,  a  man,  standing  in  the  shadow  of  a  tree, 
started  forward  as  we  came  up. 
2E  433 


CARDIGAN 

Mount  halted  and  drew  his  knife,  snarling  like  a  jaded 
wolf. 

"  Mount !     Cardigan  !"  cried  the  man. 

"  Paul !"  exclaimed  Mount,  eagerly. 

The  goldsmith  wrung  our  hands  with  a  grip  of  iron. 

"  It  is  the  beginning  of  the  end,"  he  said.  "  The  Grena 
diers  are  to  march.  I've  a  horse  on  the  Charlestown  shore. 
Gage  has  closed  the  gates  on  the  Neck." 

"  What  do  the  Grenadiers  want  ?"  asked  Mount,  all  on  fire 
again,  fagged  and  exhausted  as  he  was. 

"  They  want  the  cannon  and  stores  at  Concord,"  replied 
Revere,  in  a  low,  eager  voice.  "  I'm  waiting  for  Clay  Rolfe. 
If  the  Grenadiers  march  by  land,  Rolfe  hangs  a  lamp  in 
the  steeple  of  the  Old  North;  if  they  take  boats,  he  hangs 
two  lamps.  I  guess  they  mean  to  cross  the  bay.  The  boats 
have  been  moored  under  the  sterns  of  the  war-ships  for  a 
week.  I've  a  good  horse  across  the  water;  I'll  have  the 
country-folk  out  by  daylight  if  the  troops  stir  an  inch  to 
night.  Wait;  there's  Rolfe  now!" 

A  dark  cloaked  figure  came  swiftly  out  of  the  mews,  swing 
ing  two  unlighted  lanthorns.  It  was  Clay  Rolfe,  our  landlord 
at  the  "  Wild  Goose,"  and  he  grasped  our  hands  warmly, 
laughing  in  his  excitement. 

"  Your  boatman  is  ready  under  Hunt's  Wharf,  Paul,"  he 
said.  "  You  had  best  row  across  the  bay  while  the  rain  lasts. 
It  will  clear  before  midnight,  and  the  Somerset  is  moored 
close  to  the  Lively  to-night." 

"  Yes,"  said  Revere,  "  I've  no  mind  to  run  the  fleet  yonder 
under  a  full  moon."  And  he  offered  his  hand  to  us,  one 
after  another,  giving  our  hands  a  terrific  squeeze. 

"  Don't  forget,  Rolfe,"  he  said — "  one  if  by  land ;  two  if  by 
sea !" 

Rolfe  turned  to  us. 

"  Gage  has  officers  watching  every  road  outside  of  Boston ; 
but  Paul  will  teach  them  how  fast  news  can  travel."  He 
glanced  at  the  sky;  rain  fell  heavily.  "It  won't  last,"  he 
muttered ;  "  there'll  be  a  moon  to-night ;  Paul,  you  had  best 
row  across  now.  The  oars  are  muffled." 

They  saluted  us  and  walked  rapidly  down  Green  Lane, 
wrapped  to  the  eyes  in  their  riding-cloaks, 

434 


CARDIGAN 

"  If  Shemuel  is  at  the  '  Wild  Goose/  "  I  said,  "  perhaps  he 
has  news  for  me." 

We  entered  the  inn  and  found  it  deserted  by  all  save  a  ser 
vant,  who  recognized  us  and  bade  us  welcome. 

"  The  Grenadiers  are  out  to-night,  sir,"  he  said  to  me. 
"  All  our  company  has  gone  to  join  the  Alarm  Men  at  Lexing 
ton  and  Concord.  There  is  not  a  soul  here,  sir,  except  me." 

"  Where  is  Shemuel?"  I  asked. 

"  He  is  watching  the  Province  House,  sir ;  General  Gage 
entertains  to-night.  It  is  all  a  ruse  to  quiet  suspicion,  sir. 
But  we  know  what  is  on  foot,  Mr.  Cardigan!" 

Mount  had  dropped  into  a  chair;  the  rain  dripped  from 
the  red  thrums  of  his  buckskins ;  his  fox-skin  cap  was  soaked. 
There  was  blood  on  his  hands;  the  servant  brought  a  basin 
and  towel. 

"  God  knows  what  will  happen  at  Concord,"  he  said ;  "  Mr. 
Hancock  has  gone  there ;  Mr.  Revere  is  to  ride  through  Mid 
dlesex  to  raise  the  farmers.  Have  you  seen  the  dragoons, 
sir?  They  do  be  riding  and  capering  about  town,  stopping 
all  mounted  travellers.  They  stopped  the  Providence  coach 
an  hour  since,  and  there  was  a  fight  with  the  towns-people  in 
Beacon  Street.  The  tents  of  the  marines  are  down  on  the 
Mall ;  some  say  the  storm  tore  them  down." 

So  gossiping,  the  lad  served  us  with  bread,  cheese,  pickled 
beef,  and  a  noggin  of  punch,  and  we  listened,  tearing  at  our 
food,  and  gulping  it  like  famished  beasts  o'  the  woods. 

Pie  brought  me  my  clothes  of  buckskin,  and  I  tore  my  rot 
ten  prison  rags  from  me — alas !  the  shreds  of  that  same  silver- 
velvet  suit  which  I  had  put  on  six  months  since,  to  wed  with 
Silver  Heels. 

We  stripped  to  the  buff ;  the  lad  soused  us  well  with  steam 
ing  water  and  again  with  water  like  ice. 

Mount  encased  his  huge  frame  in  his  spare  buckskins. 
I  once  more  dressed  in  my  forest  dress,  refreshed  and  forti 
fied  by  food  and  water  which  seemed  truly  to  wash  away 
the  prison  taint  from  our  skins  as  the  hot  bowl  of  spirits 
washed  the  stale  prison  cheer  from  within. 

The  lad  brought  us  our  arms,  and  I  could  have  shouted 
aloud  my  joy  as  I  belted  in  my  knife,  hatchet,  and  bullet- 
pouch,  and  flung  my  rifle  across  my  shoulder. 

435 


CARDIGAN 

"  Where  is  my  horse  ?"  I  asked.  "  Have  you  looked  to  him, 
lad  ?  By  Heaven,  if  aught  of  mischance  has  come  to  him — " 

"  The  great  black  horse  Warlock,  sir  ?"  cried  the  lad.  "  He 
is  stabled  in  the  mews,  sir.  Mr.  Rolfe  has  had  him  cared  for 
like  a  baby;  the  head  groom  takes  him  out  every  day,  Mr. 
Cardigan,  and  the  horse  is  all  satin  and  steel  springs,  sir." 

"  Where  is  he  ?     Get  a  lanthorn,"  I  said,  huskily. 

A  moment  later,  in  the  mews,  I  heard  a  shrill  whinny,  and 
the  tattoo  of  shod  hoofs  dancing. 

"Warlock!"  I  cried. 

The  next  instant  my  arms,  were  around  his  neck. 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

IT  was  nearly  ten  o'clock;  a  freezing  rain  still  swept  the 
black  Boston  streets,  with  now  and  again  a  volley  of  hail, 
rattling  on  closed  shutters  and  swinging  shop-signs. 

In  the  dark  mews  behind  the  "  Wild  Goose  Tavern  "  had 
gathered  a  shadowy  company  of  horsemen,  unfortunate  patri 
ots  who  had  not  been  quick  enough  to  leave  the  city  before 
the  troops  shut  its  landward  gates. 

Caught  by  the  Governor's  malignant  move,  separated  from 
their  companies  of  Minute  Men,  these  half-score  gentlemen 
had  met  at  the  "  Wild  Goose "  to  consult  how  best  they 
might  leave  the  city  and  join  their  comrades  at  Lexington 
and  Concord. 

Some  were  for  riding  to  the  Neck  and  making  a  dash 
across  the  causeway;  some  wanted  boats,  among  the  latter, 
Jack  Mount,  who  naturally  desired  to  rid  the  town  of  his 
person  as  speedily  as  might  be. 

"  There's  a  hempen  neck-cloth  to  fit  my  pipes  in  Queen 
Street,"  he  said,  plaintively,  "  and  I  desire  it  not,  having  no 
mind  for  flummery.  Let  us  find  a  flat-boat,  in  God's  name, 
and  get  us  to  Charlestown  with  our  horses  while  the  rain 
endures." 

"  Ay,"  replied  an  officer  of  Roxbury  Minute  Men,  "  but 
what  if  our  horses  neigh  in  mid-stream?" 

"  The  Somerset  ran  out  her  deck-guns  at  sunset,"  added 
another.  "  What  if  she  turned  her  swivel  on  us  ?" 

"  And  how  if  they  swept  us  off  the  causeway  with  a  chain- 
shot?"  asked  Mount. 

"What  think  you,  Mr.  Cardigan?"  demanded  an  officer 
of  Sudbury  militia,  leaning  forward  in  his  wet  saddle  to  pat 
the  dripping  neck  of  his  roan. 

"I  only  know  that  I  shall  ride  this  night  to  Lexington," 

437 


CARDIGAN 

I  said,  impatiently,  "and  I  am  at  your  service,  gentlemen, 
by  land  or  sea.  Pray  you,  decide  quickly  while  the  rain 
favours  us." 

"  Is  there  a  man  among  us  dare  demand  a  pass  of  the  Gov 
ernor  ?"  asked  the  Sudbury  officer,  abruptly.  "  By  Heaven, 
gentlemen,  it  is  death  by  land  or  by  sea  if  we  make  to  force 
the  lines  this  night!" 

"  And  it  is  death  to  me  if  I  stay  here  cackling,"  muttered 
Mount,  as  we  caught  the  distant  gallop  of  dragoons  through 
stony  Wiltshire  Street. 

We  sat  moodily  in  our  saddles,  huddled  together  in  the 
darkness  and  rain,  listening  to  the  sound  of  the  horses'  feet 
on  the  pavement. 

"  I'd  give  a  thousand  guineas  if  I  were  on  the  Charlestown 
shore  with  Revere,"  muttered  an  officer. 

"  The  Governor  might  sell  you  a  pass  for  ten,"  observed 
another,  sneeringly.  "  It  will  cost  him  a  penny  to  keep  his 
pretty  bird  o'  paradise  in  plumes." 

"  If  John  Hancock  were  here  he  would  get  us  a  pass  from 
Mrs.  Hamilton,"  remarked  the  Sudbury  officer. 

There  was  a  silence,  then  one  or  two  men  laughed. 

"  Is  Mrs.  Hamilton  at  Province  House  ?"  I  asked,  not  un 
derstanding  the  careless  handling  of  her  name  among  these 
gentlemen. 

Again  came  laughter. 

"  It  is  easy  to  see  that  you  have  been  in  prison,"  observed 
the  Sudbury  officer.  "  Mrs.  Hamilton  rules  at  Province 
House,  and  leads  Tommy  Gage  by  the  nose — " 

"  By  the  left  hand"  interrupted  another,  maliciously. 

"  You  mean  that  Mrs.  Hamilton  is — is — "  I  began. 

"  Town  scandal,"  said  the  officer. 

"  It  may  be  a  lie,"  observed  a  young  man  mounted  on  a 
powerful  gray. 

"  It  is  a  lie,"  I  said,  with  an  ugly  emphasis. 

"  Is  that  remark  addressed  to  me,  sir  ?"  demanded  the 
Sudbury  officer,  sharply. 

"  And  to  company,  also,"  I  replied. 

"Gentlemen!"  cried  the  Roxbury  officer,  "are  we  to  have 
quarrels  among  us  at  such  a  time  ?" 

"  Certainly,"  said  I,  "  if  you  or  your  company  affront  me. 

438 


CARDIGAN 

Tattle  is  dirty  work  for  a  gentleman's  tongue,  and  the  sooner 
that  tongue  is  stopped  with  honest  mud  the  better." 

"  I've  called  a  gentleman  out  for  less  than  that,"  said  an 
old  officer,  dryly. 

"  I  am  at  your  service,"  I  replied,  disgusted. 

"And  I'm  with  you,  lad,"  said  Mount,  walking  up  to  my 
stirrup.  "  I  have  no  stomach  for  those  who  wink  at  a 
woman's  name." 

"  I  also,"  said  the  young  man  on  the  gray,  gravely. 

A  constrained  silence  followed,  broken  by  the  Sudbury 
officer . 

"  Hats  off  to  the  beautiful  Mrs.  Hamilton,  gentlemen ! 
Cardigan  is  right,  by  God !  If  we  stand  not  for  our  women, 
who  will?" 

And  he  stretched  out  his  hand  in  the  rain.  I  took  it; 
others  offered  me  their  hands. 

"  I  ride  to  Province  House,"  I  said,  briefly.  "  Jack,  fetch 
a  cloak  to  hide  your  buckskins  and  wait  me  here.  Gentle 
men,  I  wish  you  fortune  in  your  journey." 

As  I  rode  out  into  Cambridge'  Street,  thunder  boomed  in 
the  east,  and  I  saw  the  forked  lightning  racing  through  inky 
heavens,  veining  the  storm  with  jewelled  signs. 

"  God  writes  on  heaven's  wall !"  I  said,  aloud. 

A  strange  exultation  stirred  me;  the  dark  world  lay  free 
and  wide  before  me,  and  I  would  ride  it,  now,  from  end  to  end, 
till  Silver  Heels  was  mine  and  Butler's  soul  had  dropped  back 
into  that  pit  from  whence  it  had  crawled  to  hide  within 
his  demon's  body. 

In  Hillier's  Lane  I  put  Warlock  to  a  gallop,  but  drew  bridle 
in  muddy  Sudbury  Street,  where,  from  the  darkness,  a  stri 
dent  voice  called  on  me  to  halt. 

"  Who  comes  there  ?"  repeated  the  voice.  I  heard  the 
trample  of  horsemen  and  the  clink  of  sabres  striking  stirrups. 

"  Coureur-de-bois  for  Province  House !"  I  answered,  calmly. 
A  chafing  temper  began  to  heat  my  blood;  I  gathered  my 
bridle  and  dropped  one  hand  on  my  hatchet. 

"  On  whose  affairs  ride  you  ?"  demanded  the  spectral  dra 
goon,  laying  his  horse  broadside  across  mine. 

"  On  my  own  affairs!"  I  cried,  angrily;  "pull  out  there! — 
do  you  hear  me,  fellow  ?" 

439 


CAKDIGAN 

A  lanthorn  was  lifted  to  my  face. 

"Let  the  forest  wild-cat  go,"  muttered  an  officer,  riding 
back  to  the  picket  as  I  crowded  my  horse  against  the  dra 
goon  who  had  hailed  me. 

Without  giving  them  a  glance  I  pushed  through  the  cluster 
of  horsemen,  and  heard  them  cursing  my  insolence  as  I 
wheeled  into  School  Street  and  cantered  along  Governor's 
Alley. 

There  were  torches  lighted  in  the  mews;  an  hostler  took 
Warlock;  I  swung  out  of  the  saddle  and  stepped  back  to  a 
shelter  from  the  storm. 

Through  the  rain,  up  Marlborough  Street,  down  School 
Street,  and  along  Cornhill,  drove  the  coaches  and  carriages 
of  the  Tory  quality,  all  stopping  at  the  brilliantly  lighted 
mansion,  where,  as  an  hostler  informed  me,  the  Governor 
was  giving  a  play  and  a  supper  to  the  wealthy  Tory  families 
of  Boston  and  to  all  the  officers  of  the  British  regiments 
quartered  in  the  city.  I  knew  the  latter  statement  was  false. 

I  stood  for  a  while  in  the  rain  among  the  throng  of  poor 
who  had  come  to  wait  there,  in  patience,  on  the  chance  of  a 
scrap  from  the  servants'  quarters  after  the  servants  had 
picked  the  bones  their  surfeited  masters  would  scarcely  deign 
to  lick. 

At  first,  as  the  coaches  dashed  up  and  the  chairs  jogged 
into  the  gateway,  a  few  squalid  watchers  in  the  crowd  fought 
to  open  the  carriage-doors,  hoping  for  a  coin  flung  to  them 
for  their  pains;  but  the  sentinels  soon  put  a  finish  to  this, 
driving  the  ragged  rabble  savagely,  with  thrusts  of  their 
musket-butts,  out  into  Marlborough  Street.  Under  the  gate- 
lanthorn's  smeared  reflections  I  saw  the  poor  things  huddled 
in  a  half-circle,  pinched  and  chattering  and  white  with  hun 
ger,  soaked  to  the  bone  with  the  icy  rain,  yet  lingering,  God 
knows  why,  for  a  brief  glimpse  of  My  Lady  in  pink  silk  and 
powder,  picking  her  way  from  her  carriage  across  the  puddles, 
while  My  Lord  minced  at  her  side  and  the  footman  ran  behind 
to  cover  them  both  with  a  glistening  umbrella. 

The  stony  street  echoed  with  the  clatter  of  shod  horses, 
the  rattle  of  wheels,  the  shouts  of  footmen,  and  the  bawling 
of  chair-bearers. 

Once,  when  the  wind  sharpened,  shifted,  and  blew  the 

440 


CAKDIGAN 

slanting  rain  from  the  north,  a  warm  odour  of  roasted  butch 
er's  meats  came  to  us,  and  I  could  hear  a  hollow  sound 
rising  from  the  throng,  which  was  like  a  groan. 

In  the  Province  House  fiddlers  were  fiddling;  it  was  chill 
enough  in  the  street,  but  it  was  doubtless  over-hot  within, 
for  servants  came  and  threw  open  the  windows  and  we  could 
hear  the  fiddles  plainly  and  the  sweet  confusion  of  voices 
and  a  young  girl's  laughter. 

A  hoarse  cry  broke  out,  wrung  from  the  very  vitals  of  the 
wretches  around  me. 

"  Silence !"  shouted  the  officer  of  the  gate-guard,  striding 
out  in  his  long  rain-cloak  and  glaring  about  him,  with  tas- 
selled  stick  upraised.  The  rain  powdered  his  gilded  French 
hat  and  laced  vest,  and  he  stepped  back  hastily  under  shel 
ter. 

There  was  perfect  quiet  for  an  instant,  then  a  movement 
near  me,  a  mutter,  a  quick  surging  of  people,  a  cry :  "  Give 
room !  Back  there !  Bear  him  up !" 

A  voice  broke  out,  "  He  is  starving ;  the  smell  o*  meat 
sickens  him !" 

Two  men  staggered  past,  supporting  a  mere  lad,  whose 
deathly  face  hung  on  his  rain-soaked  cotton  shirt. 

"  He  has  the  spotted  sickness !"  muttered  a  chair-bearer 
near  me ;  "  it's  death  to  take  his  breath !  Let  me  pass !" 

"  The  pest !"  cried  another,  shrinking  back,  and  stumbling 
away  in  a  panic. 

The  officer  watched  the  scene  for  a  moment,  then  his 
heavy,  inflamed  face  darkened. 

"Back  there!  Be  off,  I  say!"  he  bawled.  "Ye  stinking 
beggars,  d'ye  mean  to  poison  us  all  with  the  pest  ?  Turn  out 
the  gate-guard!  Drive  those  filthy  whelps  up  Cornhill!"  he 
shouted  to  the  corporal  of  the  guard. 

The  soldiers  came  tumbling  out  of  the  gate-lodge,  but  be 
fore  they  could  move  on  the  throng  another  officer  hurried 
up,  and  I  heard  him  sharply  recalling  the  soldiers  and  re 
buking  the  officer  who  had  given  the  order. 

"  No,  no,  that  will  not  do,"  he  said.  "  The  town  would 
flame  if  you  drive  the  citizens  from  their  own  streets.  Let 
them  stand  there.  What  harm  are  they  doing?" 

"  The  lout  yonder  fell  down  with  the  spotted  pest,"  re- 

441 


CARDIGAN 

monstrated  the  first  officer.     "Faugh!     The  rabble's  rotten 
with  scurvy  or  some  filthy  abomination — " 

"  They'll  harm  no  one  but  themselves,"  replied  the  other 
in  a  sad  voice,  which  sounded  strangely  familiar  to  me,  so 
familiar  that  I  involuntarily  stepped  out  into  the  lighted 
space  under  the  gate  and  peered  at  him  through  the  rain, 
shielding  my  eyes  with  my  hands. 

The  officer  was  Mr.  Bevan. 

Should  I  speak  to  him  ?  Should  I  count  on  his  friendship 
for  me  to  get  me  an  audience  with  the  Governor  ?  Here  was 
a  chance ;  he  could  vouch  for  me ;  so  could  Mrs.  Hamilton. 

As  I  hesitated  somebody  beside  me  clutched  my  elbow,  and 
I  swung  around  instantly,  one  hand  on  my  hunting-knife. 

The  next  moment  Saul  Shemuel  almost  rolled  at  my  feet 
in  ari  ecstasy  of  humble  delight,  sniffling,  writhing,  breath 
ing  hard,  and  clawing  at  my  sleeve  in  his  transports  at  sight 
of  me. 

I  seized  his  arm,  drew  him  along  the  wall,  and  into  the 
dusky  mews. 

Impatient,  yet  touched,  I  suffered  his  mauling,  demand 
ing  what  news  he  might  have,  and  he,  beside  himself  with  joy 
and  excitement,  could  scarce  find  breath  to  pant  out  the  news 
which  concerned  me.  "  I  haf  seen  Foxcroft,"  he  gasped. 
"  Mr.  Foxcroft  he  bass  come  to-day  on  dot  Pomona  frigate  to 
Scarlet's  Wharf,  twelve  weeks  from  Queenstown,  sir.  It  wass 
printed  in  dot  Efening  Gazette,  all  apout  Foxcroft  how  he  isa 
come  from  Sir  Peter  Warren  to  make  some  troubles  for  Sir 
John  Johnson  mit  dot  money  he  took  from  Miss  Warren,  sir!'1 

"  Foxcroft !    Here  ?"  I  stammered. 

"  Yess,  sir ;  I  ran  mit  my  legs  to  Queen  Street,  und  I  told 
him  how  you  wass  in  dot  prison  come,  und  he  run  mit  his 
legs  to  Province  House,  but  too  late,  for  we  hear  dot  bell  ring 
und  dose  guns  shooting.  Und  I  said,  '  Gott  of  Isaac,  I  bet 
you  Jack  Mount  he  hass  run  avay!'  Und  Mr.  Foxcroft  he 
sees  some  dragoon  soldiers  come  into  Cornhill,  calling  out : 
1  Dose  highwaymens  is  gone !  Vatch  'em  by  dot  Mail !'  So 
Mr.  Foxcroft  he  comes  to  Province  House  mit  me,  sir,  und 
he  iss  gone  in  to  make  some  troubles  mit  Governor  Gage 
apout  Sir  John  Johnson  und  dot  money  of  Miss  Warren! 
Ach,  here  iss  Mr.  Foxcroft,  now,  sir — " 

442 


CARDIGAN 

I  turned  to  confront  a  stout,  florid  gentleman,  swathed  in 
a  riding-cloak,  whose  little,  angry  eyes  snapped  as  he  cried: 
"  Governor  Gage  is  a  meddling  ass !  I  care  not  who  listens 
to  me,  and,  I  repeat,  he  is  a  meddlesome  ass !  Sir  Peter  War 
ren  shall  hear  of  this,  damme!  Am  I  a  free  agent,  damme? 
I  take  it  that  I  am  a  free  agent,  yet  I  may  not  leave  this 
town  to-night  for  lack  of  a  pass.  But  I'll  go!  They  shall 
not  stop  me!  No,  damme  if  they  shall!" 

The  hostlers  were  all  staring  at  him;  I  stepped  towards 
him,  eagerly,  but  the  peppery  and  inflamed  barrister  waved 
me  off . 

"Damme,  sir!"  he  bawled;  "who  the  devil  are  you,  sir? 
Take  your  hands  from  me,  sir !  I  wish  to  go  to  my  client  in 
Lexington,  and  this  Tory  peacock  will  give  me  no  pass!  I 
will  not  suffer  this  outrage;  I  will  appeal  to — " 

I  gave  him  a  jerk  ths+  shook  the  breath  from  his  body, 
whispering  in  his  ear :  "  Be  silent,  in  Heaven's  name,  sir !  I 
am  Michael  Cardigan !" 

At  first,  in  his  passion,  astonishment,  and  incredulity,  he 
found  no  voice  to  answer  me ;  but  as  Shemuel  eagerly  vouched 
for  me,  Mr.  Foxcroft's  fury  and  suspicion  subsided. 

"  You  ?  Cardigan  ?"  he  repeated.  "  Well,  where  the  devil 
have  you  been,  sir,  and  what  the  devil  have  you  been  about, 
sir  ?  Eh  ?  Answer  me  that,  now !" 

"  I've  been  in  prison,  under  sentence  of  death,"  I  replied. 
"  Where  have  you  been,  sir,  to  leave  your  client,  Miss  War 
ren,  at  the  mercy  of  Walter  Butler  ?" 

At  that  he  took  fire,  and,  with  trembling  fist  quivering 
towards  heaven,  he  justified  his  absence  in  warm  terms. 

"  I've  been  in  England,  sir,  that's  where  I've  been !"  he 
cried.  "  I've  been  there  to  find  out  why  your  blackguard  of 
a  kinsman,  Sir  John  Johnson,  should  rob  my  client  of  her 
property.  And  I've  found  out  that  your  blackguard  Sir  John 
has  not  only  robbed  her  of  her  means,  but  of  the  very  name 
she  has  a  right  to!  That's  what  I've  done,  sir.  And  if  it 
does  not  please  you,  you  may  go  to  the  devil !" 

His  impudence  and  oaths  I  scarcely  noted,  such  a  fierce 
happiness  was  surging  through  me  to  the  very  bones.  I 
could  have  hugged  the  choleric  barrister  as  he  stood  there, 
affronting  me  at  every  breath;  I  fairly  beamed  upon  him 

443 


CARDIGAN 

when  he  bade  me  go  to  the  devil,  and,  to  his  amazement,  I 
seized  his  fat  hands  and  thanked  him  so  gratefully  that  the 
defiance  died  on  his  lips  and  he  stared  at  me  open-mouthed. 

"  My  dear  sir,  my  dear,  dear  friend,"  I  cried,  "  I  will  get 
you  your  pass  to  clear  the  Neck  to-night,  and  we  will  go 
together  to  find  my  cousin,  Miss  Warren.  Wait  me  here,  sir; 
I  will  leave  Boston  this  night  or  my  name  is  not  Cardigan !" 

Then  bidding  Shemuel  keep  an  eye  on  Warlock,  I  hurried 
around  to  the  gate-house,  where  the  rabble  still  slunk,  watch 
ing  the  lighted  windows  with  famished  eyes. 

The  clouds  in  mid-heaven  had  caked  into  snowy  jets  of 
fleece,  and  now  the  full  moon  of  April  flooded  the  soaked 
pavements  with  pools  of  silver. 

The  sentry  halted  me  as  I  entered  the  court-yard,  but 
when  I  asked  for  Mr.  Bevan,  he  called  to  a  comrade  to  take 
my  message.  The  next  moment  Pevan  stepped  out  into  the 
moonlight. 

"  What  is  it,  my  man  ?  Can  I  serve  you  ?"  he  said,  pleas 
antly,  peering  at  me. 

"  Do  you  not  know  me,  Mr.  Bevan  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Cardigan !"  he  stammered,  "  is  that  you,  Cardigan — " 

He  was  close  to  me  at  a  stride,  both  hands  on  my  shoulders, 
his  kindly,  troubled  eyes  full  of  wonder  and  pity.  Perhaps 
I  appeared  to  him  somewhat  haggard  and  careworn,  and 
then  the  rain  had  chilled  and  pinched  me. 

"  I  am  not  in  want,"  I  said,  trying  to  smile. 

"  But — but  why  are  you  not  among  the  guests  at  Province 
House  ?"  he  asked,  quickly.  "  The  son  of  Captain  Cardigan 
needs  no  friend  at  court,  I  fancy." 

He  linked  his  gilded  sleeve  in  my  arm  and  drew  me  past 
the  guard-house,  and  ere  I  could  protest,  I  found  myself  in 
side  the  cloak-room  among  a  company  of  old  beaux  and 
young  fops,  all  in  the  hands  of  footmen  and  body-servants 
who  were  busily  dusting  the  hair-powder  from  silken  shoul 
ders,  smoothing  out  laces,  hanging  hats  and  cloaks  to  dry, 
and  polishing  sword-hilts  for  their  languid,  insolent-eyed 
masters. 

"  Can  we  not  find  a  quiet  corner  hereabouts  ?"  I  asked.  "  I 
came  to  demand  a  pass  for  Lexington.  Will  you  use  your 
privilege  with  the  Governor,  Bevan?" 

444 


CARDIGAN 

"  A  pass !"  he  exclaimed,  stopping  short  in  his  tracks. 

"  To  Lexington,"  I  repeated. 

"To-night?" 

"  Yes." 

He  raised  his  honest,  perplexed  eyes  to  me. 

"  I  must  have  a  pass ;  it  concerns  the  welfare  of  Miss  War 
ren,"  I  began,  then  hesitated,  remembering  that  I  was  also 
to  take  Jack  Mount  in  my  company,  whose  business  in  Lex 
ington  was  very  different  from  mine. 

"  Cardigan,"  he  said,  with  troubled  eyes  on  me,  "  I  cannot 
lend  myself  to  such  a  service,  even  for  Miss  Warren's  sake, 
unless  you  first  give  me  your  word  of  honour  that  your  jour 
ney  concerns  only  Miss  Warren's  welfare." 

My  heart  sank;  I  could  not  betray  the  comrade  who  count 
ed  on  me.  Jack  Mount  must  get  free  o'  Boston  as  well  as  I. 
But  how  could  I  lie  to  Bevan  or  requite  his  courtesy  with 
treachery?  Yet  honour  forbade  me  to  leave  Jack  Mount, 
even  for  Silver  Heels's  sake. 

"  Pass  or  no  pass,  I  go  this  night,"  I  said,  sullenly. 

"Hush!"  he  said;  "don't  talk  here." 

He  led  me  through  the  card-rooms,  where  a  score  of  old 
bucks  and  purple-necked  officers  sat,  all  playing  picquet  in 
owlish  silence,  then  through  a  partition,  where  a  fountain 
sprayed  beds  of  tall  ferns,  out  into  a  lamp-illumined  circular 
alcove,  hung  with  China  silks,  and  bowered  deep  in  flow 
ers  and  tiny,  blossoming  trees  no  higher  than  one's  knee- 
buckle. 

"  The  Chinese  alcove,"  he  observed.  "  Nobody  will  dis 
turb  us  here,  I  fancy.  You  have  heard  of  the.  Chinese  al 
cove,  Cardigan?  There  is  the  door  to  the  famous  golden 
gallery." 

I  glanced  at  the  gilded  door  in  the  corner,  half -hidden  by 
Chinese  drapery.  I  had  heard  that  the  Governor's  sweet 
heart  dwelt  here. 

Bevan  reached  up  and  pulled  a  velvet  cord.  Presently  a 
servant  brought  us  a  silver  bowl  of  steaming  punch  made 
with  tea  and  fruit  in  the  Regent's  fashion. 

"  I  drink  no  tea,"  I  said,  shortly. 

"I  suppose  not,"  observed  Bevan,  laughing,  and  com 
manded  the  servant  to  fetch  me  a  bowl  without  tea. 

445 


CAKDIGAN 

"  Your  courtesy  to  a  rebel  is  extraordinary,"  I  said,  after 
an  interval. 

"  Oh,  I'm  half  rebel  myself,"  he  laughed.  "  I'd  be  in  my 
shirt-sleeves  out  Middlesex  way,  drilling  yokels — Minute  Men, 
I  believe — were  it  not  that — that — oh,  well,  I'll  wear  the  red 
jacket  as  long  as  I  live  and  let  the  future  weed  out  the  goats 
from  the  sheep." 

"  It's  different  with  you,"  I  said.    "  You  are  English  bred." 

"  Ay,  and  the  red  o'  the  uniform  has  dyed  my  flesh  to  the 
bone,"  he  replied. 

"  You  mean  that  you  will  fight — us  ?"  I  asked. 

"Tooth  and  nail,  my  dear  fellow,"  he  said,  gayly;  "foot, 
horse,  and  dragoons!  But  what  can  I  do  to  serve  you — 
first?" 

I  tasted  a  glass  of  punch,  then  set  it  down  impatiently. 
"  I  tell  you  I  must  ride  to  Lexington,"  I  said,  firmly,  "  and  I 
mean  to  take  friends  if  I  choose — " 

"  Tell  me  no  more,  Cardigan,"  he  broke  in,  "  else  I  must 
refuse  you  what  little  service  I  may  render.  You  know  as 
well  as  I  why  the  gates  on  the  Neck  are  closed  to-night.  If 
you  do  not  know,  listen  to  me.  The  rebels  have  been  storing 
war  materials.  Last  October  we  gave  their  spokesmen  full 
warning  that  we  could  no  longer  tolerate  the  collecting  of 
arms  and  ammunition.  We  sent  expeditions  into  the  country 
to  destroy  what  stores  they  had  gathered." 

He  hesitated ;  a  perplexed  smile  passed  over  his  face.  "  You 
know  perfectly  well,"  he  said,  "  that  we  have  good  reasons 
for  closing  the  city  gates  to-night.  I  cannot  give  you  a 
pass.  Yet,  for  Miss  Warren's  sake  " — he  lifted  his  hat  as  he 
spoke — "  I  have  done  what  I  could  in  honour.  Now  I  must 
leave  you." 

"  What  have  you  done  ?"  I  asked,  angrily. 

"  I  have  conducted  you  to  the  Chinese  alcove,  my  friend." 

"  The  ante-chamber  of  the  Governor's  mistress,"  I  retorted. 
"  Am  I  to  find  my  pass  here  among  these  flowers  and  blos 
soms?" 

He  looked  down  at  the  glasses  on  the  table  beside  us, 
stirred  the  contents  of  his  own,  and  nodded. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  I  demanded,  hotly. 

"  I  mean,  Cardigan,  that,  except  the  Governor,  there  is  only 

446 


CARDIGAN 

one  person  to-night  in  Boston  who  can  secure  you  a  pass  for 
Lexington.    If  she  chooses  to  do  so,  it  is  not  my  affair." 

"  If  who  chooses  to  do  so  ?" 

"  She." 

"Who?" 

"  Wait  and — ask  her,"  he  said,  gravely. 

He  was  gone,  wading  waist-deep  in  flowers,  ere  I  could 
compose  my  mind  to  think  or  protest,  leaving  me  speechless; 
standing  by  the  table. 

A  minute  passed;  through  the  thickets  of  sweet-smelling 
blossoms  the  candles  flamed  like  those  slender  witch-lights 
that  dance  over  nature's  gardens,  where  bergamot  and  cardi 
nal  robe  our  dim  woods  in  crimson  glory  under  the  October 
stars. 

"  What  does  he  mean  by  leaving  me  here  ?"  I  muttered, 
pacing  to  and  fro  through  the  fragrant,  flowering  lane.  Then, 
as  I  stood  still,  listening,  far  away  I  heard  a  glass  door  close 
with  a  crystalline  clash;  there  came  the  rustle  of  brocade 
sweeping  like  a  breeze  along  the  passage;  the  door  of  the 
golden  gallery  swung  outward;  a  figure  all  silk  and  lace 
stood  poised  on  the  step  above  me,  screened  to  the  knees  be 
hind  the  flowers. 

"  Where  is  the  forest-runner  who  desires  a  pass  to  Lexing 
ton  ?"  she  began ;  then,  perceiving  my  lank,  dark  form  against 
the  candle-light,  she  laughed  a  sweet,  contented  little  laugh 
and  bade  me  approach. 

I  saw  that  exquisite,  indolent  head  bending  towards  me, 
the  smiling  eyes  seeking  my  features,  the  jewels  ablaze  at 
her  throat. 

"  Marie  Hamilton !"  I  stammered. 

All  her  neck  and  face  flamed,  then  whitened  to  the  hue 
of  death  as  she  stepped  swiftly  towards  me,  her  brocade 
sweeping  through  the  flowers  with  a  sound  like  the  wind 
tearing  silken  petals.  Suddenly  she  stood  still,  clearing  her 
startled  eyes  with  one  jewelled  hand;  her  knees  fell  a-trem- 
bling;  she  swayed  and  caught  at  the  stiff,  golden  curtains, 
half  tearing  them  from  the  wall. 

Into  a  carved  chair,  all  glittering  with  dragon's  wings,  she 
fell,  a  crumpled  heap  of  lace  and  jewels,  and  buried  her  face 
in  her  hands,  pressing  her  fingers  into  the  plump  skin. 

447 


CARDIGAN 

I  watched  her  miserably;  she  twisted  her  white  hands  be 
fore  her  face;  her  quivering  mouth,  her  delicate  body  bent 
and  writhing,  all  these  told  me  what  no  words  could  tell,  and 
her  agonized  silence  shouted  her  shame  to  the  midnight 
skies  of  heaven. 

In  the  hush  that  followed,  the  door  of  the  golden  gallery 
swung  idly  back  and  forth  with  a  deadened,  muffled  beat  like 
the  noise  of  great  wings  flapping. 

"  Michael,"  she  said,  at  last. 

"  Yes,"  I  whispered,  in  hopeless  grief. 

Presently  she  sat  up,  wearily,  one  hand  on  her  pale,  smooth 
brow.  I  could  not  meet  her  eyes ;  I  bent  my  head. 

"  Oh,  God,  what  punishment  is  mine!"  she  sobbed. 

She  dropped  her  hands,  clasped  them,  and  looked  wildly 
at  me  through  her  tears. 

"  If  I  am  what  I  am,  it  was  because  I  had  lost  you,"  she 
said.  "  I  had  eaten  my  heart  out — you  never  came — I  never 
thought  you  cared — I  never  thought  you  cared!"  she  wailed, 
twisting  her  interlocked  fingers  in  helpless  agony.  "  I  had 
loved  you  so  long ;  I  tried  to  make  you  understand  it,  but  you 
would  not.  I  was  mortally  hurt — I  said  bitter  things — but 
my  heart  was  yours,  Michael,  yours  for  the  asking,  and  so 
was  I;  you  had  only  to  take  me;  I  would  have  gone  with  you 
from  the  first  word  you  spoke  to  me  in  Johnson  Hall — I 
would  have  followed  you — from  the  first  glance  you  gave  me. 
Wrong?  What  is  wrong?  Love?  It  is  never  wrong!  I 
would  have  died  for  a  touch  of  your  lips;  I  did  almost  die 
when  you  kissed  me  there,  using  me  so  shamelessly  with  your 
boyish  cruelty!  You  went  away  in  the  night;  I  searched 
Johnstown,  and  I  listened  and  questioned  until  I  believed 
you  had  gone  to  Pittsburg.  And  I  followed  you,  madly 
jealous  of  Felicity,  crazed  at  the  thought  that  she,  too,  was 
going  to  Pitt  to  be  near  you.  But  you  were  not  at  Fort  Pitt; 
I  waited,  and  I  was  calm  because  I  believed  that  Felicity 
meant  to  wed  with  Dunmore.  Then  Harrod  sent  in  his 
list  of  killed — my  husband  was  among  the  dead.  I  went  back 
to  Albany.  I  meant  to  come  to  Boston  to  sell  my  house:  I 
needed  money.  You  found  me  there  on  the  road  that  night; 
I  could  have  died  from  happiness,  but  you  would  not  under 
stand  me,  Michael !"  she  ended,  piteously. 

448 


CARDIGAN 

I  kept  my  eyes  on  the  floor. 

"  And  now,  since  you  have  been  in  Boston,  all  these  long 
months,"  she  cried,  "  I  have  not  seen  you ;  I  could  not  find 
you,  nor  could  I  find  anybody  who  had  ever  seen  you.  God 
knows  I  did  not  think  to  see  you  here  since  I,  destitute,  ut 
terly  desperate,  caring  nothing  for  life,  took — this — shame 
ful— step- 
She  covered  her  hot  face  with  her  hands. 

"  Can  you  believe  I  love  you  still  ?"  she  sobbed. 

I  could  endure  no  more;  already  I  had  stumbled  through 
the  flowery  hedge  towards  the  door,  blindly  forcing  a  path 
amid  the  blossoms  which  threw  out  a  hundred  tendrils  to  bar 
my  way. 

Once  I  looked  back.  She  lay  in  the  glittering  chair,  eyes 
following  me.  The  next  step,  and  a  great  bunch  of  roses 
blotted  her  face  from  my  sight. 

Through  the  card-room  I  hurried,  aware  of  people  around 
me,  yet  seeing  nothing;  down  the  stairway,  jostled  by  people 
who  were  descending  or  mounting,  and  at  last  into  the  cloak 
room  and  out  through  the  court-yard,  which  was  now  bright 
with  moonlight  shining  in  the  puddles  of  rain. 

Shemuel  came  from  the  mews  to  meet  me,  leading  War 
lock.  Mr.  ^oxcroft  stalked  behind  him. 

"  Where  is  the  pass  ?"  he  demanded.  "  Did  you  procure 
the  pass,  sir?  What!  Empty-handed!  Now,  by  Heaven!" 
he  cried,  in  a  towering  furv,  "  this  Tory  Governor  presumes 
too  far!" 

"Be  silent!"  I  said,  sharply;  "do  you  wish  to  have  us  all 
arrested?  I  shall  go  to  Lexington  to-night,  I  tell  you,  pass 
or  no  pass;  and,  before  I  go,  you  shall  tell  me  where  I  may 
find  Miss  Warren." 

"  A  mile  out  of  Lexington  on  the  Bedford  Road,"  he  re 
plied.  "  How  can  you  pass  the  Neck  guard,  without  the  Gov 
ernor's  leave,  sir  ?" 

"  I  will  show  you,"  said  I,  "  if  you  choose  to  accompany 
me." 

"  You  mean  to  ride  for  it  ?"  he  asked,  excitedly. 

I  was  silent. 

"  And  risk  a  chain-shot  from  their  twenty-four-pounders  ?" 
he  persisted. 

2F  449 


CARDIGAN 

"  Mr.  Foxcroft,"  I  said,  "  you  may  do  as  you  please,  but 
there  is  nothing  under  the  moon,  yonder,  which  can  keep  me 
from  going  to  Lexington.  Have  you  a  horse  stabled  here? 
No  ?  Can  you  hire  one  ?  Then  hire  him,  in  Heaven's  name, 
and  get  into  your  saddle  if  you  mean  to  go  with  me.  Shem- 
uel,  find  a  good  horse  for  Mr.  Foxcroft,  and  another  for 
Jack  Mount.  You  must  pay  for  them;  I  have  no  money.  It 
is  half-past  ten  o'clock ;  I  will  wait  ten  minutes." 

Shemuel  scurried  back  into  the  mews ;  Foxcroft  followed, 
and  in  a  moment  his  portly  figure  was  lost  to  sight  in  the 
dusky  alley. 

I  looked  up  at  the  lighted  windows  of  Province  House, 
wondering  how  on  earth  I  was  to  go  to  Lexington.  Music 
was  sounding  from  the  ballroom;  I  looked  out  across  the 
dark  city;  the  moon  hung  over  the  bay;  the  rigging  of  a 
war-ship  rose  black  against  the  silvery  disk.  Instinctively 
I  turned  my  eyes  towards  the  steeple  of  the  Old  North  Meet- 
ing-House.  The  steeple  was  dark;  the  troops  had  not  yet 
started. 

Musing  there  in  the  moonlight,  hands  clasped  on  the  pom 
mel  of  my  saddle,  the  dull  thunder  of  hoofs  from  the  stable 
aroused  me,  and  presently  Mr.  Foxcroft  came  clattering  out 
of  the  mews,  followed  by  Shemuel,  also  mounted,  a  grotesque 
lump  of  a  shape,  crouched  on  the  saddle,  his  flat,  three-cor 
nered  hat  crammed  over  his  great  ears,  his  nose  buried  in 
his  neck-cloth.  He  led  a  third  horse  behind  him. 

"  Now,  sir,"  panted  Foxcroft,  "  I  am  prepared  to  ride  to 
the  devil  with  you  and  put  this  Tory  Governor's  nose  out  o' 
joint!" 

"  Do  you  also  ride  with  us,  Shemuel  ?"  I  asked. 

He  replied  faintly  in  the  affirmative.  The  little  creature 
was  frightened.  His  devotion  touched  me  very  deeply. 

Walking  our  horses  along  Common  Street,  we  were  almost 
immediately  accosted  by  dragoons,  who,  on  learning  that  our 
destination  was  the  "  Wild  Goose  Tavern,"  cursed  us  roundly, 
promising  to  clean  out  that  nest  of  rebels  at  no  distant  date. 
Their  officer  also  began  to  harangue  us,  but  I  pushed  my  horse 
past  him  and  cantered  on  into  the  Mall  and  out  through 
Green  Lane,  wheeling  into  the  alley  behind  the  "  Wild 
Goose." 

450 


CARDIGAN 

Of  the  half-score  gentlemen  whom  I  had  left  there,  sitting 
their  rain-drenched  horses,  none  remained.  However,  Mount 
was  in  the  tavern,  and  he  came  at  my  whistle,  explaining  that 
the  balance  of  the  company  had  chosen  to  risk  crossing  the 
bay  under  the  guns  of  the  Somerset,  rather  than  attempt  to 
force  the  Neck. 

"  God  go  with  them!"  said  I;  "  here's  Shemuel  with  a  horse 
for  you.  We'll  ride  to  the  shore  and  see  what  can  be  done." 

Mount,  who  had  been  busily  embracing  Shemuel,  gave  the 
little  Jew  a  mighty  slap  of  affection,  vaulted  into  his  saddle, 
passed  my  rifle  to  me,  and  fell  back  beside  the  peddler,  while 
Mr.  Foxcroft  and  I  rode  through  the  Mall  once  more,  down 
towards  the  shore,  where,  in  the  darkness,  faint  flashes 
through  the  trees  came  and  went  as  the  waves  of  the  bay 
caught  the  moonlight. 

"  Is  it  too  far  to  swim  ?"  I  asked  Mr.  Foxcroft. 

"  Too  far,"  he  replied,  with  a  shiver.  "  All  is  marsh  be 
yond;  the  mud  would  smother  us  ere  we  landed.  That  shoal 
yonder  is  dry  at  low-water." 

"  Mr.  Foxcroft,"  said  I,  "  we  must  swim  for  it  somewhere. 
Could  we  not  make  the  Charles  River  at  a  pinch  ?" 

"  No,  nor  Stony  Brook,"  he  said.  "  A  good  swimmer 
might  circle  the  floating  battery  and  make  his  way  outside 
the  Neck,  but  he  could  not  last,  Mr.  Cardigan." 

We  had  been  slowly  approaching  the  shore  while  we  spoke. 
For  some  time  I  had  fancied  I  heard  sounds  in  the  darkness 
like  the  stirring  and  movement  of  a  body  of  men  assembling. 
At  first  I  fancied  the  swelling  murmur  of  the  tide  deceived 
me,  yet  at  moments  it  seemed  as  though  I  could  distinguish 
a  trampling  sound  which  could  not  have  been  the  beat  of 
the  ocean's  steady  squadrons  on  the  beach. 

Then,  as  we  came  out  through  the  fringe  of  trees  from 
which  the  land  fell  away  to  the  water's  edge,  a  stirring  sight 
lay  spread  before  us:  below,  in  the  dazzling  moonlight,  the 
shore  swarmed  with  soldiers,  teamsters,  and  boatmen,  moving 
hither  and  thither  along  the  water's  edge.  Companies  of 
grenadiers  were  marching  towards  the  wooden  wharf  at  the 
end  of  Hollis  Street;  companies  of  light  infantry  and  ma 
rines  were  embarking  in  the  boats  which  lay  rocking  along 
the  shore;  horses  snorted,  gathered  in  groups,  while  boatmen 

451 


CARDIGAN 

poled  flat-boats  towards  a  cove  from  which  already  a  scow, 
freighted  with  horses,  was  being  pushed  out  into  the  bay. 

Although  there  was  no  talking,  save  the  half-whispered 
commands  of  the  officers,  the  movement  of  so  many  boats, 
the  tread  of  a  thousand  men,  the  stamping  and  noises  of 
horses,  all  swelled  into  a  heavy,  ceaseless  sound,  which  min 
gled  with  and  intensified  the  murmur  of  the  mounting  tide, 
stirred  to  its  flood  by  the  silver  magic  of  the  rising  moon. 

Hundreds  of  .soldiers  had  already  embarked;  we  could  dis 
tinguish  the  dark  line  of  their  boats,  all  strung  out  as  though 
fastened  together,  stem  and  stern,  rising  and  falling  on  the 
glittering  surface  of  the  bay,  ever  lengthening,  as  new  boats, 
loaded  deep  with  soldiers,  put  out  to  fall  into  line  and  sail 
bobbing  away  into  the  darkness,  only  to  reappear  again  un 
der  the  flood  of  moonlight. 

"  Suppose,"  whispered  Mount,  "  we  lead  our  horses  aboard 
that  scow  yonder !" 

In  another  moment,  scarcely  aware  of  what  I  was  actu 
ally  about,  I  had  dismounted,  and  was  leading  Warlock 
straight  down  to  the  shore  towards  a  cove,  where  half  a  dozen 
boatmen  were  standing  in  a  scow,  resting  on  their  long  sea- 
poles. 

"If  they  ask  questions,  knock  them  into  the  water!"  said 
Mount,  calmly. 

He  repeated  the  instructions  to  Foxcroft  and  Shemuel  as 
we  filed  along  the  dim  shore  past  a  throng  of  boatmen, 
grooms,  officers'  servants,  and  teamsters,  and  made  straight 
towards  the  scow  that  lay  a  few  yards  off  shore  in  the  little, 
shadowy  cove. 

It  was  a  desperate  attempt;  had  I  given  myself  one  min 
ute's  reflection,  I  should  rather  have  risked  a  dash  across  the 
Neck  and  a  chain-shot  on  the  causeway.  Yet  its  very  au 
dacity  was  in  our  favour;  the  boatmen,  when  they  saw  us 
leading  our  horses  down  to  their  cove,  hastily  lowered  a 
plank  bridge  from  their  heavy  scow,  and  Mount  coolly  waded 
out  into  the  water,  guiding  his  horse  aboard  as  calmly  as 
though  it  were  his  own  stable,  and  these  Tory  boatmen  his 
paid  grooms. 

I  followed  with  Warlock,  who  snorted  and  pawed  when  the 
salt  water  rose  to  his  fetlocks,  but  he  danced  up  the  plank 

452 


CARDIGAN 

incline  and  entered  the  boat  without  coaxing.  Shemuel's 
horse,  a  sleek,  weasel-bellied  animal,  with  a  wicked  eye  and 
a  bunch  o'  hackle  for  a  tail,  swung-  round  in  the  water,  sling 
ing  the  little  Jew  on  his  face  in  the  mud,  and  then,  with  a 
vicious  squeal,  flung  up  his  heels  and  cantered  off,  scattering 
a  company  of  marines  drawn  up  a  hundred  yards  down  the 
shore. 

Draggled  and  dripping,  Shemuel,  standing  knee-deep  in 
salt  water,  watched  the  flight  of  his  horse,  but  I  bade  him 
come  aboard  at  once,  and  he  did  so,  casting  sidelong  glances 
at  the  boatmen,  who  regarded  him  with  astonishment. 

Mr.  Foxcroft,  meanwhile,  had  dragged  his  horse  aboard, 
and  Mount  ordered  the  boatmen  to  push  off  at  once. 

As  the  men  took  up  their  heavy  sea-poles,  I  heard  them 
whispering  to  each  other  that  Mount  and  I  must  be  scouts 
sent  ahead  to  spy  for  the  soldiers,  and  I  caught  them  eying 
our  buckskins  curiously  as  they  lay  on  their  poles,  pushing 
out  towards  the  broad  belt  of  moonlight  which  glistened 
beyond. 

The  wind  whipped  our  cheeks  as  we  swung  clear  of  the 
land;  the  boatmen  presently  took  to  their  oars,  which  I  no 
ticed  were  muffled  midway  between  blade  and  handle.  The 
row-locks,  also,  had  been  padded  with  bunches  of  wheat-straw 
and  rags. 

Now  that  we  were  safely  afloat,  misgivings  seized  me.  I 
had  never  before  been  on  salt  water;  the  black  waves  which 
came  slapping  on  our  craft  disturbed  me;  the  shadowy  hulk 
of  the  war-ship  which  lay  athwart  our  course  loomed  up  like 
doom,  seeming  to  watch  us  with  its  wicked  little  green  and 
red  eyes,  marking  us  for  destruction. 

The  wind  freshened  furiously  in  my  face;  the  waves  came 
rolling  in  out  of  the  darkness,  rap!  rap!  slap!  rap!  crushing 
into  stinging  gusts  of  spray,  soaking  us  to  the  skin. 

Far  to  our  left  the  line  of  boats  floated,  undulating  across 
the  bay;  the  beacon  in  Boston  flared  out  red  as  we  rounded 
Fox  Hill ;  the  light  on  Mount  Wh-d-m  twinkled. 

Presently  Mount  touched  my  arm  and  pointed.  High  up 
in  the  dark  haze  above  the  city  two  bright  lights  hung.  So 
we  knew  that  Rolfe  was  watching  from  the  belfry  of  the  Old 
North  Meeting-House,  and  that  Paul  had  read  the  twin 

453 


CARDIGAN 

lamps'  message  and  was  now  galloping  west  through  the  Mid 
dlesex  farms. 

Shemuel,  shivering  in  his  wet  and  muddy  garments,  crept 
up  beside  me  to  ask  where  we  were  to  be  landed. 

I  did  not  know,  nor  dared  I  ask,  fearing  to  awake  sus 
picion.  Besides,  we  were  close  under  the  sprit  of  a  tall, 
black  frigate,  so  close  that  I  could  see  the  candles  flaring  in 
the  battle  lanthorns  and  the  dead  bay-weeds  hanging  from 
the  chains,  and  I  could  even  read  her  name,  the  Falcon. 

Then,  suddenly,  out  of  the  shadow  under  the  black  frigate's 
hulk,  a  cockle-shell  came  dancing  towards  us,  with  an  officer 
in  the  stern,  who  played  his  lanthorn  on  us  and  waved  his 
arm. 

"  Move  into  line  with  the  ship's  boats !"  he  called  out,  with 
many  a  strange  sea-oath;  and  our  brawny  oarsmen  pulled 
northeast  once  more  towards  the  long  line  of  boats  which 
now  stretched  almost  across  the  bay. 

"You  land  at  Phipps's  Farm,  sir?"  inquired  a  sweating 
boatman  of  Mount. 

"Phipps's  Farm!"  broke  in  Mr.  Foxcroft.  "It's  in  the 
marshes  o'  Lechemere!  I'm  damned  if  I'll  be  landed  at 
Phipps's!" 

"Isn't  that  where  the  troops  land,  sir?"  asked  the  boat 
man,  resting  his  oar. 

Mount  shook  his  head  mysteriously. 

"  We  are  on  special  service,  lads,"  he  said.  "  Ask  no  ques 
tions,  but  put  us  ashore  at  Willis  Creek,  and  tell  the  colonel 
to  give  you  a  guinea  apiece  for  me." 

At  this  impudent  remark  the  boatmen  began  to  row  with 
renewed  vigour ;  the  salt  spray  drove  aboard  in  showers,  the 
wind  roared  in  our  ears,  the  horses  huddled  together. 

Once  more  we  swung  across  the  line  of  boats;  in  the  craft 
just  ahead  of  us  I  could  see  the  marines  sitting  with  their 
muskets  on  their  knees,  right  hands  covering  the  flints  and 
pans. 

As  the  distance  slowly  increased  between  us  and  the  troop- 
boats,  I  began  to  breathe  more  freely.  Mount  stood  by  his 
horse,  coolly  chewing  a  straw  from  the  wadded  oar-locks,  his 
fox-skin  cap  pushed  back  on  his  head,  the  fluffy  tail  blowing 
wildly  in  the  wind. 

454 


CAEDIG AN 

Slowly  the  dark  shore  took  shape  before  us ;  already  I  could 
smell  the  land  smell,  and  hear  the  wind  among  the  reeds. 

Oh,  the  happiness  to  be  free  from  that  prison  city,  lying 
there  in  the  gloom  across  the  water! — the  joy  to  tread  free 
ground  once  more,  to  scent  free  winds,  to  move  unrestrained 
across  the  world  again ! 

Mount,  too,  was  sniffing  restlessly  at  the  marsh,  wreathed 
in  sea-mist;  I  fancied  his  eyes  glowed  in  the  moonlight  like 
the  eyes  of  a  waiting  hound. 

Something  touched  my  hand;  Shemuel  came  cowering  to 
my  side. 

"  Courage,"  I  whispered. 

"  I  haf  done  all  I  could,"  he  said,  in  a  shaking  voice. 

"  I  know  that,  lad,"  I  muttered. 

His  wet  fingers  sought  mine. 

"  I  shall  nefer  be  safe  no  more,"  he  whispered. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  I  asked. 

"  I  don't  know.  I  shall  nefer  set  foot  on  shore  no  more.  I 
don't  live  long  now,  Mr.  Cardigan." 

He  was  trembling  from  head  to  foot  as  I  laid  my  hand  on 
his  shoulder. 

The  boatmen  had  dropped  their  oars  and  taken  to  their 
poles  once  more;  the  tall  reeds  rustled  as  our  scow  drove  its 
square  nose  into  the  shallows  and  grounded  with  a  grating 
jar.  Startled  curlews,  round  about  us,  uttered  their  queru 
lous  cries. 

"  There's  a  road  swings  northwest  through  the  marshes," 
said  Mount,  wading  out  into  the  water  and  leading  his  horse 
up  through  the  rushes.  "  Follow  me,  lad.  I  should  know 
this  country  from  Cobble  Hill  to  Canada." 

Foxcroft  had  mounted;  Jack  climbed  stiffly  into  his  sad 
dle  ;  I  threw  Warlock  around  in  the  reeds,  prepared  to  set  foot 
to  stirrup,  when  Shemuel  seized  my  arm  convulsively.  A 
patrol  of  British  light  horse,  riding  in  single  file,  came  pick 
ing  their  way  down  the  shore  in  the  moonlight. 

Mount  and  Foxcroft  saw  them  and  drew  bridles;  I  slung 
my  legs  across  Warlock,  just  as  they  hailed  us. 

"  Get  up  behind!  Quick!"  I  whispered  to  Shemuel,  watch 
ing  the  horsemen  riding  towards  Mount,  who  was  ahead  of 
Foxcroft. 

455 


CARDIGAN 

Shemuel's  strength  appeared  to  have  left  his  limbs;  he 
struggled  to  mount  behind  me;  Warlock,  alarmed  at  his  con 
tortions,  began  to  dance  restlessly. 

Impatient,  I  stooped  to  grasp  Shemuel,  and  I  already  had 
him  by  the  collar  when  an  exclamation  and  a  sudden  tram 
pling  of  horses  made  me  turn  my  head  just  in  time  to  see  a 
British  officer  seize  Jack  Mount  and  attempt  to  drag  him 
from  his  saddle. 

Before  I  could  straighten  up,  the  cavalry  were  upon  us;  I 
saw  Foxcroft  snap  his  pistol,  wheel,  and  gallop  into  the  reeds ; 
I  saw  Jack  Mount  fling  the  officer  off  and  fetch  him  a  crack 
ing  blow  with  the  barrel  of  his  rifle.  Two  men  rode  at  me; 
I  raised  my  rifle  with  one  hand,  calling  to  Shemuel  to  mount 
behind  me,  but  the  frightened  peddler  squirmed  out  of  my 
clutch  and  rushed  off  headlong  into  the  marsh. 

A  horseman  followed  him,  cursing;  the  other  trooper, 
mired  in  the  rushes,  struggled  to  get  at  me. 

I  swung  my  rifle  to  my  cheek;  it  flashed  in  the  pan;  the 
brute  set  his  horse  at  a  gallop,  and,  leaning  forward,  deliber 
ately  shot  at  the  unarmed  peddler.  Shemuel  dodged,  ran  a 
few  yards,  doubled  on  the  horseman,  and  came  rushing  back 
towards  Mount.  He  gained  a  little  hillock  of  rising  ground , 
he  could  have  escaped  into  the  fringing  willows,  but,  to  my 
horror,  he  turned  and  waved  his  arms  to  me,  shouting : 

"  Ride !  Ride !  Mr.  Cardigan  !  For  Miss  Warren's  sake, 
ride,  sir!" 

"  Touch  that  man  and  I'll  brain  you !"  I  roared  at  the 
horseman  who  had  now  drawn  his  sabre. 

Again  I  tried  to  shoot  the  trooper,  but  the  flint  sparks  died 
out  in  the  damp  pan.  With  a  groan  I  rode  after  him,  calling 
out  to  Shemuel  to  seek  cover  in  the  brush,  but  he  only  ran 
about  on  his  hillock,  dodging  the  infuriated  trooper,  and 
calling  frantically  to  me  that  I  must  save  myself  for  Miss 
Warren's  sake. 

Then,  while  my  horse  was  floundering  in  the  marsh,  slowly 
drawing  his  mired  limbs  to  firm  ground,  I  saw  Shemuel  dart 
towards  me  with  a  shriek,  and,  ere  I  could  reach  him,  I  saw 
the  trooper  bend  down  from  his  saddle  and  slash  the  poor, 
frightened  creature's  head  with  one  terrible  blow  of  his 
heavy  sabre. 

456 


CARDIGAN 

Down  into  the  mud  plunged  Shemuel;  the  trooper's  horse 
trampled  and  passed  over  his  body,  then  swung  in  a  rushing 
circle  and  bore  down  011  me,  just  as  the  other  rider  came 
splashing  at  me  from  the  right. 

My  rifle  a  third  time  flashed  in  the  pan;  the  priming  had 
been  wet  with  spray.  I  struck  Warlock  on  the  flanks,  whirled 
him  head  on  against  Shemuel's  murderer,  and,  whipping  out 
my  war-hatchet,  aimed  a  furious  blow  at  the  fellow's  head. 
The  keen  hatchet  blade  sank  into  the  trooper's  shoulder;  he 
tumbled  out  of  his  stirrups  and  landed  heavily  among  the 
cat-tails. 

Instantly  I  checked  Warlock,  poised  myself  in  my  stirrups, 
and  launched  the  hatchet  straight  at  the  other  horseman, 
striking  him  full  in  the  chest,  but  whether  with  blade-edge, 
handle,  or  flat,  I  know  not,  for,  as  his  horse  swerved  wide, 
passing  me  at  a  tearing  gallop,  Mount  and  Foxcroft  flew  past, 
calling  out  that  Shemuel  was  dead  and  that  I  must  follow 
them  for  my  life. 

Up  the  shore  we  crashed  through  the  rushes,  driving 
straight  out  into  the  marsh,  our  horses  floundering,  and  the 
light  horsemen  firing  their  pistols  at  us  from  the  firmer 
ground  above. 

A  ball  grazed  Warlock ;  his  neck  was  wet  with  blood. 

"They'll  murder  us  all  here!"  cried  Foxcroft;  "charge 
them,  in  God's  name !" 

Mount  heard  him  and  bore  to  the  left ;  I  followed ;  knee  to ' 
knee  we  lifted  our  crazed  horses  out  of  the  marsh  and  hurled 
them  into  the  little  patrol  of  light  horse,  bursting  upon  them 
ere  they  could  wheel  to  meet  us. 

In  the  moonlight  their  sabres  flashed  before  our  eyes,  but 
no  lunging  point  found  its  billet  of  flesh,  though  their  blades 
rang  out  on  our  rifle-barrels;  then  we  were  on  them,  among 
them,  plunging  through  them,  and  pounding  away  northward 
over  a  hard  gravel  road. 

They  discharged  their  pistols  at  us ;  a  few  of  them  followed 
us,  but  all  pursuit  ceased  below  Prospect  Hill ;  we  galloped, 
unmolested,  into  the  old  Charlestown  and  West  Cambridge 
Road,  and  flew  onward  through  the  night. 

In  lonely  stretches  of  road,  which  ran  rivers  of  moon 
light,  I  could  see  Mount  riding,  head  on  his  breast,  square 

457 


CARDIGAN 

jaw  set,  and  I  knew  he  was  brooding  on  Shemuel's  dismal 
end. 

The  swift  murder  of  the  little  peddler  shocked  me  terribly ; 
Shemuel's  strange  premonition  of  his  own  approaching  death 
fairly  made  me  shiver  in  my  stirrups  as  I  rode.  Like  a 
doomed  man  the  Jew  had  gone  to  his  end,  with  what  courage 
God  had  lent  him.  He  had  been  a  friend  to  me.  For  all  his 
squalid  weakness  of  limb,  his  natural  fear  of  pain,  his  phys 
ical  cowardice,  he  had  not  swerved  from  the  service  of  his 
country,  nor  had  he  faltered  or  betrayed  the  confidence  of 
men  whose  peril  imperilled  himself.  Nothing  save  his  fidelity 
to  us  had  forced  him  to  leave  the  city  with  us;  nothing  save 
the  innate  love  of  liberty  in  his  grotesque  and  dirty  body 
had  lured  this  errant  child  of  Israel  to  risk  his  life  in  bear 
ing  messages  for  those  who  watched  the  weighted  hours  creep 
on  towards  that  bloody  dawn  already  gathering  under  the 
edges  of  the  sleeping  world. 

Now,  as  we  rode,  from  behind  us  the  sound  of  bells  came 
quavering  across  dim  meadows;  out  of  the  blue  night  bells 
answered;  we  heard  the  reports  of  guns,  the  distant  clamour 
of  a  horn  blowing  persistently  from  some  hidden  hamlet. 

"  The  alarm !"  panted  Foxcroft,  at  my  elbow,  as  we  pound 
ed  on.  "Hurrah!  Hurrah!  The  country  lives!" 

"Jack!"  I  called,  through  the  rushing  wind,  "the  whole 
land  is  awaking  behind  us!  Do  you  hear?  Our  country 
lives!" 

"  And  England  dies !"  cried  Mount,  passionately.  With 
both  hands  uplifted,  and  bridle  flung  across  his  horse's  neck, 
he  galloped  in  the  lead.  On  his  huge  horse,  towering  up  in 
the  saddle,  he  swept  on  through  the  night,  a  gigantic  in 
carnation  of  our  people  militant,  a  colossal  shape  embodying 
all  that  we  had  striven  for  and  suffered  for  from  the  hour 
when  the  first  pioneer  died  at  the  stake. 

On  he  swept  astride  his  rushing  horse,  the  fox-tail  on  his 
cap  streaming,  the  thrums  on  his  sleeves  blowing  like  ripe 
grain ;  and  ever  he  tossed  his  arms  towards  the  sky  and  shook 
his  glittering  rifle  above  his  head,  till  the  moonshine  played 
on  it  like  lightning. 

"  Ring !  Ring  out  your  bells !"  we  shouted,  as  we  tore 
through  a  sleeping  village ;  and  behind  us  we  could  see  candle- 

458 


CARDIGAN 

light  break  out  from  the  dark  houses,  and,  ere  the  volleying 
echoes  of  our  horses'  hoofs  struck  the  last  spark  from  the  vil 
lage  streets,  the  meeting-house  bell  began  swinging,  warning 
the  distant  farms  that  the  splendid  hour  had  come. 

And  now,  unexpectedly,  we  encountered  a  check  in  our 
course.  Full  in  the  yellow  moonlight,  on  a  little  hill  over 
which  our  road  lay,  we  caught  sight  of  a  body  of  horsemen 
drawn  up,  and  we  knew,  by  the  moon  shining  on  their  gor 
gets,  that  we  had  before  us  a  company  of  dragoons  with  their 
officers. 

At  a  word  from  Jack  I  dismounted  and  pulled  the  rails 
from  the  road  fence  on  our  right.  Through  the  aperture  we 
filed,  out  into  a  field  of  young  winter  wheat  well  sprouted, 
and  then  west,  as  quietly  as  we  might,  with  watchful  eyes 
on  the  dragoons. 

But  the  British  horsemen  had  also  turned,  and  were  now 
trotting  along  parallel  to  our  course,  which  manoeuvre  drove 
us  off  eastward  again  across  the  meadows,  deep  starred  with 
dandelions.  For  us  to  alarm  Lexington  was  now  impossible. 
We  could  already  see  the  liberty-pole  on  the  hill  and  make  out 
where  the  village  lay,  by  a  gilt  weather-vane  shining  in  the 
moonlight  above  the  trees.  But  there  were  no  lights  to  be 
seen  in  Lexington,  and  we  dared  not  ride  through  the  dark 
town,  not  knowing  but  that  it  might  be  swarming  with  dra 
goons. 

Still,  if  it  were  impossible  for  us  to  alarm  Lexington,  we 
could  ride  on  across  the  fields  and  gain  the  Bedford  Road. 

Mr.  Foxcroft  undertook  to  pilot  us.  As  I  rode  by  his  side 
I  could  scarce  believe  that,  yonder,  close  at  hand  in  the  dark 
ness,  Silver  Heels  slept,  nor  doubted  that  I  was  near.  My 
heart  began  a-drumming. 

"  You  are  sure  she  is  there  ?"  I  asked,  plucking  Foxcrof  t's 
sleeve. 

"  Unless  Captain  Butler  has  prevailed,"  he  said,  grimly. 

I  choked  and  trembled  in  my  saddle. 

"  Do  you — do  you  believe  she  would  listen  to  him  ?"  I  mut 
tered. 

"  Do  you  ?"  he  asked,  turning  on  me. 

We  forced  our  horses  through  a  belt  of  tasselled  willows 
fringing  a  little  thread  of  a  meadow  stream.  The  dew  show- 

459 


CARDIGAN 

ered  our  faces  like  a  flurry  of  rain.  My  cheeks  were  burn 
ing. 

"How  far  is  it?  Are  we  near  her  house?"  I  asked  again 
and  again.  I  strove  to  realize  that  I  was  nearing  Silver 
Heels ;  I  could  not,  nor  was  I  able  to  understand  that  I  should 
ever  again  see  her. 

In  moments  of  my  imprisonment  I  had  believed  devoutly 
that  I  should  live  to  see  her;  yet  since  my  deliverance  from 
that  cage  of  stones  I  had  not  dared  assure  myself  that  I 
should  find  her;  I  had  not  given  myself  time  to  think  of  the 
chances  that  might  favour  me  or  of  the  possibilities  of  failure. 
Dormant  among  my  bitter  memories  lay  that  vile  threat  of 
Walter  Butler;  I  dared  not  stir  it  up  to  examine  it;  I  let  it 
lie  quiet,  afraid  to  rouse  it.  By  what  hellish  art  could  he, 
my  mortal  enemy,  inspire  aught  but  hatred  in  the  woman  who 
had  loved  me  and  who  must  have  known  how  I  had  suffered 
at  his  hands? 

Yet,  if  he  had  not  lied  to  me,  she  had  at  least  given  him 
an  audience.  But  his  boast  that  she  had  consented  to  fix  a 
day  to  wed  with  him  I  believed  not,  deeming  it  but  a  foolish 
attempt  at  cruelty  on  a  man  who,  truly  enough,  at  that  time, 
seemed  doomed  to  die  upon  the  gibbet  behind  Queen  Street 
court-house. 

We  now  came  to  a  stony  pasture  in  which  cattle  lay,  turn 
ing  their  heavy  heads  in  the  dim  light  to  watch  us.  I  dis 
mounted  to  let  down  the  bars.  In  vain  I  looked  for  a  house ; 
there  were  no  lights  to  be  seen. 

Foxcroft  moved  slowly;  I  nearly  rode  him  down  in  my 
rising  anxiety,  now  almost  beyond  control. 

At  length,  however,  he  discovered  a  narrow,  overgrown 
lane,  lined  with  hazel,  and  we  turned  into  it,  single  file,  lead 
ing  our  horses.  The  lane  conducted  us  to  an  orchard,  all 
silvery  in  the  moonbeams,  and  now,  through  the  long  rows  of 
trees,  I  saw  the  moon  shining  on  the  portico  of  a  white 
mansion. 

"  Is  that  the  house  ?"  I  whispered. 

Foxcroft  nodded. 

We  led  our  horses  through  a  weedy  garden  up  to  the  pil 
lared  portico.  Even  in  the  moonlight  I  could  see  the  neglect 
and  decay  that  lay  over  house  and  grounds.  In  the  pale  light 

460 


CARDIGAN 

clusters  of  yellow  jonquils  peeped  from  the  tangle  about  the 
doorsteps ;  an  owl  left  a  hemlock  tree  with  a  whistle  of  broad 
wings  and  wheeled  upward,  squealing  fiercely. 

And  now,  as  I  leaped  to  the  porch,  I  became  aware  of  a  light 
in  the  house.  It  streamed  from  a  chink  in  the  wooden  shutters 
which  were  closed  over  the  window  to  the  right  of  the  door. 

Foxcroft  saw  it;  so  did  Mount;  we  tied  our  hard-blown 
horses  to  the  fluted  wooden  pillars,  and,  stepping  to  the  door, 
rapped  heavily. 

The  hard  beating  of  my  heart  echoed  the  rapping;  intense 
silence  followed. 

After  a  long  time,  pattering,  uncertain  steps  sounded  in 
side  the  hallway;  a  light,  dim  at  first,  grew  brighter  above  the 
fanlight  over  the  door. 

The  door  opened  to  its  full  width;  the  candle  flared  in  the 
draught  of  night  wind,  smoked,  flickered,  then  burned  stead 
ily.  A  little,  old  man  stood  in  the  hallway;  his  huge  shadow 
wavered  beside  him  on  the  wall. 

It  was  the  Weasel ! 

The  cuffs  of  his  coat,  guiltless  of  lace,  were  too  large  for 
his  shrunken  arms;  his  faded  flowered  waistcoat  hung  on 
his  thin  body  like  a  sack;  yet  his  hair  was  curled  and  pow 
dered  over  his  sunken  forehead.  On  his  colourless,  wasted 
face  a  senile  smile  flickered;  he  laid  his  withered  hand  on 
his  breast  and  bowed  to  us,  advancing  to  the  threshold. 

With  a  gesture  he  welcomed  us ;  he  did  not  speak,  but  stood 
there  smiling  his  aged  smile,  expectant,  silent,  the  pattern  of 
threadbare  courtesy,  the  living  spectre  of  hospitality. 

"Cade!"  whispered  Mount,  with  ashy  lips;  "Cade,  old 
friend!  How  came  you  here?" 

The  Weasel's  meaningless  eyes  turned  on  Mount ;  there  was 
no  light  of  recognition  in  them. 

"You  are  welcome,  sir,"  said  Renard,  in  the  ghost  of  his 
old  voice.  "  I  pray  you  enter,  gentlemen ;  we  keep  open  house, 
ah  yes! — an  old  custom  in  our  family,  gentlemen — you  are 
welcome  to  Cambridge  Hall,  believe  me,  most  welcome." 

The  thin,  garrulous  chatter  awoke  petulant  echoes  through 
the  silent  hall ;  he  raised  his  childish  voice  and  called  out  the 
names  of  servants,  long  dead.  The  hollow  house  replied  in 
echoes ;  the  candle-flame  burned  steadily. 

461 


CARDIGAN 

"  My  servants  are  doubtless  in  their  hall,"  he  said,  without 
embarrassment ;  "  that  the  office  of  hospitality  devolves  on  me 
I  must  count  most  fortunate.  Pray,  gentlemen,  follow.  The 
grooms  will  take  your  horses  to  the  stables." 

Leading  us  into  a  room,  where  were  a  few  chairs  set  close 
to  a  small,  shabby  card  -  table,  he  begged  us  to  be  seated 
with  a  kindly  smile,  then  seated  himself,  and  fell  a-bab- 
bling  of  ancient  days,  and  of  people  long  since  in  their 
graves,  of  his  kennels  and  stables,  of  the  days  when  the  world 
was  younger,  and  hearts  simpler,  and  true  men  loved  their 
King. 

Nor  could  we  check  him,  for  he  would  smile  and  talk  of  the 
fleet  in  the  downs,  and  the  fete  to  be  given  in  Boston  town 
when  Sir  Peter  Warren  and  his  old  sea-dogs  landed  to  dine 
at  Province  House.  And  all  the  while  Jack  Mount  sat  star 
ing  with  tear-smeared  eyes,  and  lips  a-quiver,  and  great 
fists  clasped  convulsively;  and  Foxcroft  leaned,  elbow  on 
knee,  keen  eyes  watching  the  little  madman  who  sat  serenely 
babbling  of  a  household  and  a  wife  and  a  life  that  existed 
only  in  his  stricken  brain. 

His  wines  he  brought  us  in  cracked  glasses — clear  water 
from  a  spring  that  was  older  than  human  woe,  but,  like  his 
hospitality,  unfailing. 

At  intervals  he  spoke  to  empty  space,  as  though  servants 
waited  at  his  back;  and  it  was  the  "Blue  Room"  for  Mr. 
Foxcroft,  and  the  "  South  Chamber  "  for  "  you,  sir,  Captain 
Mount,  I  believe,  of  his  Majesty's  Grenadiers?"  Oh,  it  was 
heart-breaking  to  see  the  agony  in  Mount's  eyes  and  the 
ghastly  by-play  of  the  little,  withered  man,  the  light  of  whose 
mind  had  gone  out,  leaving  a  stricken  body  to  be  directed  by 
the  spirit  of  a  child. 

Never  shall  I  forget  that  candle-lit  scene  as  I  saw  it: 
Mount,  dumb  with  grief,  sitting  there  in  his  buckskins,  rifle 
on  knee  and  fox-skin  cap  twisted  in  his  great  brown  hands; 
Foxcroft,  his  black  smalls  splashed  with  clay,  his  heavy,  red 
face  set  in  careworn  lines;  and  the  little,  shabby  Weasel,  in 
his  mended  finery,  shrunken  fingers  interlocked  on  his  knee, 
smiling  vacantly  at  us  over  a  cracked  glass  of  spring-water, 
and  dispensing  hospitality  with  a  mild  benevolence  which  was 
truly  ghastly  in  its  unconscious  irony. 

462 


CARDIGAN 

"  What  in  God's  name  is  he  doing  here  ?"  I  whispered  to 
Foxcroft. 

"  Quiet,"  motioned  Foxcroft,  turning  his  head  to  listen.  I, 
too,  had  caught  the  sound  of  a  light  footfall  on  the  stair. 
Instinctively  we  all  rose ;  the  Weasel,  muttering  and  smiling, 
ambled  to  the  dark  entry. 

Then,  out  of  the  wavering  shadows,  into  the  candle-light, 
stepped  a  young  girl,  whose  clear  hazel  eyes  met  ours  with 
perfect  composure.  Her  face  was  deadly  white;  her  fin 
gers  rested  in  the  Weasel's  withered  palm;  she  saluted  us 
with  a  slow,  deep  reverence,  then  raised  her  steady  eyes  to 
mine. 

"  Silver  Heels !     Silver  Heels !"  I  whispered. 

Her  eyes  closed  for  a  moment  and  she  quivered  from  head 
to  foot. 

"My  daughter,  gentlemen,"  said  the  Weasel,  tenderly; 
bending,  he  touched  her  fingers  with  his  shrivelled  lips,  smil 
ing  to  himself. 

Her  gray  eyes  never  left  mine ;  I  stepped  forward ;  she  gave 
a  little  gasp  as  I  took  her  hand. 

"  Who  is  this  young  man  ?"  said  the  Weasel,  mildly.  "  He 
is  not  Captain  Butler,  dear — or  my  memory  fails — ay,"  he 
babbled  on,  "  it  fails  me  strangely  now,  and  I  had  best  sit 
quiet  while  younger  heads  think  for  me.  Yet,  this  young  man 
is  not  Captain  Butler,  dear  ?" 

"  No,  father." 

In  the  silence  I  heard  my  heart  beat  heavily.  A  minute 
passed;  the  Weasel  peered  at  me  with  his  dim  eyes  and 
clasped  his  daughter's  hand  closely. 

"  Silver  Heels!     Silver  Heels!"  I  cried,  with  a  sob. 

"  Do  you  want  me — now  ?"  she  whispered. 

I  caught  her  fiercely  in  my  arms;  she  hung  to  me  with 
closed  eyes  and  every  limb  a-tremble. 

And,  as  I  stood  there,  with  my  arms  around  her,  and  her 
face  against  mine,  far  away  I  heard  the  measured  gallop  of 
a  horse  on  the  highway,  nearer,  nearer,  turning  now  close 
outside  the  house,  and  now  thundering  up  to  the  porch. 

Instantly  Jack  Mount  glided  from  the  room;  Foxcroft, 
listening,  silently  drew  his  pistol ;  I  reached  out  for  my  rifle 
which  leaned  against  the  chair,  and,  striking  the  butt  heavily 

463 


CARDIGAN 

against  the  floor,  glanced  at  the  pan.  The  rifle  had  primed 
itself. 

Then  I  turned  smiling  to  Silver  Heels. 

"  Do  you  know  who  is  coming  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Yes." 

I  stepped  to  the  centre  of  the  room ;  the  door  opened  gently : 
a  motionless  shape  stood  there  in  the  moonlight,  the  shape  of 
my  enemy,  Walter  Butler. 


CHAPTEK    XXVII 

HE  hesitated,  poised  on  the  threshold,  his  yellow  eyes  COD-- 
tracting,  dazzled  by  the  candle;  then,  like  lightning, 
his  sword  glittered  in  his  hand,  but  Mount,  behind  him,  tore 
the  limber  blade  from  his  grip  and  flung  it  ringing  at  my 
feet.  Now,  weaponless  and  alone,  Butler  stood  confronting 
us,  his  blank  eyes  travelling  from  one  to  another,  his  thin 
lips  twitching  in  an  ever-deepening  sneer.  Nor  did  the  sneer 
leave  his  face  when  Mount  slammed  and  locked  the  door  be 
hind  him,  and  unsheathed  his  broad  hunting-knife. 

"  Something  is  dreadfully  wrong,  gentlemen,"  quavered  poor 
Cade  Renard ;  "  this  is  Captain  Butler,  my  daughter's  af 
fianced.  I  pray  you  follow  no  ancient  quarrel  under  my 
roof,  gentlemen.  I  cannot  suffer  this  affront — I  cannot  per 
mit  this  difference  between  gentlemen  in  my  daughter's 
presence — " 

Mount  quietly  drew  the  little  man  aside  to  the  door  and 
led  him  out,  saying  tenderly:  "All  is  well,  old  friend;  you 
have  forgotten  much  in  these  long  days.  You  will  remember 
soon.  Go,  dream  in  the  moonlight,  Cade.  She  was  ever  a 
friend  to  us,  the  moon." 

Suddenly  Butler  turned  on  Silver  Heels,  his  darkening 
face  distorted. 

"  You  have  played  the  game  well !"  he  whispered,  between 
his  teeth. 

"What  game?"  I  asked,  with  deadly  calmness.  "Pray 
say  what  you  have  to  say  at  once,  Mr.  Butler." 

Again  his  evil  gaze  shifted  from  face  to  face;  there  was 
no  mercy  in  the  eyes  that  met  his ;  his  visage  grew  loose  and 
pallid. 

"  That  she-devil  swore  to  wed  me !"  he  broke  out,  hoarsely, 
pointing  a  shaking  finger  full  at  Silver  Heels.     "  She — swore 
it!"     His  voice  sank  to  a  hiss. 
2a  465 


CARDIGAN 

"  To  save  my  father  from  a  highwayman's  death  I"  said 
Silver  Heels,  deathly  white. 

She  turned  to  me,  quivering.  "  Michael,  I  am  a  thief's 
daughter.  This  is  what  I  am  come  to! — to  buy  my  father's 
life  with  my  own  body — and  fling  my  soul  at  that  man's  feet ! 
Now  will  you  wed  me?" 

A  cold  fury  blinded  me  so  I  could  scarcely  see  him.  I 
cocked  my  rifle  and  drew  my  hand  across  my  eyes  to  clear 
them. 

"  This  is  not  your  quarrel !"  he  said,  desperately ;  "  this 
woman  is  the  daughter  of  Cade  Renard,  a  notorious  high 
wayman  known  as  the  Weasel!  I  doubt  that  Sir  Michael 
Cardigan — for  your  uncle  is  dead,  whether  you  know  it  or 
not ! — would  care  to  claim  kinship  in  this  house !" 

He  turned  like  a  snake  and  measured  Mount  from  head 
to  foot. 

"  Give  me  my  sword !"  he  said,  harshly,  "  and  I  will  an 
swer  for  myself  against  this  other  thief!"  His  glaring  eyes 
fell  on  Foxcroft. 

"  What  the  devil  are  you  doing  here  ?"  he  snarled.  "  Are 
you  knave  or  fool,  that  you  stand  there  listening  to  this 
threat  on  my  life?  You  know  that  this  woman  is  Renard's 
child!  You  have  Sir  John's  papers  to  prove  it!  Are  you 
not  his  attorney,  man  ?  Then  tell  these  gentlemen  that  I 
speak  the  truth,  and  that  I  will  meet  them  both,  singly,  and 
carve  it  on  their  bodies  lest  they  forget  it!" 

"  It  is  too  late,"  I  said ;  "  a  gentleman's  sword  can  never 
again  be  soiled  by  those  hands." 

"Ay!"  cried  Foxcroft,  suddenly,  "it  is  too  late!  You 
say  I  have  papers  to  prove  the  truth  ?  I  have ;  and  you  shall 
hear  the  truth,  you  cursed  scoundrel !" 

"She  is  the  Weasel's  child!"  cried  Butler,  hoarsely. 

"  If  she  were  the  child  of  Tom  o'  Bedlam,  she  is  still  be 
trothed  to  me !  God  knows,"  I  said,  "  whether  you  be  human 
or  demon,  and  so  perhaps  you  may  not  burn  in  hell,  but  I 
shall  send  you  thither,  with  God's  help!" 

And  I  laid  my  hand  on  his  arm,  and  asked  him  if  he  was 
minded  to  die  quietly  in  the  garden;  while  Mount,  knife  at 
his  throat,  pushed  him  towards  the  door. 

"  Do  you  mean  it  ?"  he  burst  out,  shuddering.  "  Am  I 

466 


CARDIGAN 

not  to  have  a  chance  for  life?     This  is  murder,  Mr.  Cardi 
gan!" 

"  So  dealt  you  by  me  at  the  Cayuga  stake,"  I  said. 

"Yet — it  is  murder  you  do.  If  my  hands  are  not  clean, 
would  you  foul  your  own  ?" 

"  So  dealt  you  by  me  in  Queen  Street  prison,"  I  said,  slowly. 

"  Yet,  nevertheless,  it  is  murder.  And  you  know  it.  This 
is  no  court  of  law,  to  sit  in  judgment.  Are  the  Cardigans 
the  public  hangmen  ?" 

"Give  him  his  sword!"  I  cried,  passionately.  "I  cannot 
breathe  while  he  draws  breath!  Give  him  his  sword,  or  I 
will  slay  him  with  naked  hands !" 

"  No !"  roared  Foxcroft,  hurling  me  back. 

Butler  scowled  at  the  lawyer ;  Foxcroft  scowled  at  him,  and 
placed  his  heavy  shoe  on  the  fallen  sword.  Then  he  sudden 
ly  stooped,  seized  the  gilded  hilt,  and  snapped  the  blade  in 
two,  casting  the  fragments  from  him  in  contempt. 

"  The  sword  of  a  scoundrel,"  he  said ;  "  the  sword  of  a 
petty  malefactor — a  pitiful  forger — " 

"Liar!"  shrieked  Butler,  springing  at  him.  Mount  flung 
the  maddened  man  into  a  chair,  where  he  lay,  white  and  pant 
ing,  staring  at  Foxcroft,  who  now  stood  by  the  table,  coolly 
examining  a  packet  of  documents. 

"  It  is  all  here,"  he  said — "  the  story  of  two  cheap  dabblers 
in  petty  crime — Sir  John  Johnson  and  Mr.  Walter  Butler — 
how  they  did  conspire  to  steal  from  Miss  Warren  her  wealth, 
her  fair  fame,  and  the  very  name  God  gave  her.  A  shameful 
story,  gentlemen,  but  true  on  the  word  of  an  honourable 
man." 

"  Lies !"  muttered  Butler,  between  ashen  lips.  His  cheeks 
became  loose  and  horrible;  his  lips  shrivelled  up  above  his 
teeth.  Foxcroft  turned  to  me,  purple  with  passion. 

"  Sir  William  Johnson,  your  honourable  kinsman,  left  Miss 
Warren  property  in  his  will.  Sir  John  found,  in  the  same 
box  which  held  the  will,  a  packet  of  documents  and  letters 
addressed  to  Sir  William,  apparently  proving  that  Miss  War 
ren  was  the  child  of  a  certain  lady  who  had  left  her  husband 
to  follow  the  fortunes  of  Captain  Warren— her  child  by 
her  own  husband,  Cade  Renard,  a  gentleman  of  Cambridge." 

*  The  Weasel!"  burst  out  Jack  Mount. 

467 


CARDIGAN 

"  But  she  is  not,  sir !"  cried  Foxcroft,  turning  on  Mount. 
"She  is  Captain  Warren's  own  child;  I  journeyed  to  Eng 
land  and  proved  it ;  I  have  papers  here  in  my  pocket  to  prove 
it!"  he  said,  slapping  the  flaps  of  his  brass-buttoned  coat. 
"  It  was  a  lie  from  beginning  to  end ;  the  letters  supposed  to 
have  been  written  to  Sir  William  by  Sir  Peter  Warren  were 
forged ;  the  documents  supposed  to  have  been  unearthed  from 
the  flooring  in  the  captain's  cabin  of  his  Majesty's  ship  Leda 
were  forged.  I  can  prove  it !  I  can  prove  that  Walter  Butler 
was  the  forger!  I  can  prove  that  Sir  John  Johnson  knew 
it!  And  to  that  end  Sir  John  and  Captain  Butler  con 
spired  to  make  her  believe  herself  to  be  the  child  of  a  half- 
crazed  forest-runner  who  had  been  besetting  Sir  John  with 
his  mad  importunities,  calling  himself  Cade  Renard,  and 
vowing  that  Miss  Warren  was  his  own  child!" 

He  glared  at  Butler;  the  wretched  man's  lips  moved  to 
form  the  word,  "  Lies !"  but  no  sound  came.  Then  Foxcroft 
turned  to  me. 

"  In  my  presence  these  three  men  broke  the  news  to  her ; 
they  hoodwinked  me,  too.  By  God,  sir,  I  had  never  suspected 
villany  had  not  that  contemptible  fool,  Sir  John,  attempted 
to  bribe  silence,  should  anything  ever  occur  to  cast  doubt 
on  the  relationship  betwixt  this  fellow  Renard  and  Miss 
Warren!" 

The  lawyer  paused,  grinding  his  teeth  in  rage. 

"  I  accepted  the  bribe !  I  did,  gentlemen !  I  did  it  to 
quiet  suspicion.  Sir  John  believes  me  to  be  his  creature. 
But  I  set  out  to  follow  the  matter  to  the  bitter  end,  and  I 
have  done  it !  It's  a  falsehood  from  A  to  Zed !  I  shall  have 
the  pleasure  of  flinging  Sir  John's  bribe  into  his  face!" 

He  laid  his  hand  on  my  arm,  speaking  very  gently  and 
gravely. 

"  Mr.  Cardigan,  Miss  Warren  is  the  truest,  bravest,  sweet 
est  woman  I  have  ever  known.  She  received  the  news  of  her 
dreadful  position  as  a  gallant  soldier  receives  the  fire  of 
the  enemy.  When  it  was  made  hopelessly  clear  to  her  that 
this  lunatic  Renard  was  her  father,  and  that  she  was  not  a 
Warren,  not  an  heiress,  that  she  must  now  give  up  all  thought 
of  the  family  on  which  she  had  so  long  imposed — and  give 
up  all  pretensions  to  you,  sir — she  acquiesced  with  a  dignity 

4G8 


CARDIGAN 

that  might  have  become  a  princess  of  the  blood,  sir!  No 
whining  there,  Mr.  Cardigan!  Not  a  whimper,  sir;  not  a  re 
proach,  not  a  tear.  Her  first  thought  was  of  pity  for  her 
father — this  little,  withered  lunatic,  who  sat  there  devouring 
her  with  his  eyes  of  a  sick  hound.  She  went  to  him  before 
us  all;  she  took  his  hand — his  hard,  little  claw — and  kissed 
it.  By  God,  gentlemen,  blood  tells !" 

After  a  long  silence  I  repeated,  "  Blood  tells." 

Mount,  head  in  his  hands,  was  weeping. 

"  Then  came  Butler,  the  forger,"  said  Foxcroft,  pointing  at 
him.  "  And  when  he  found  that,  after  all,  Miss  Warren  hon 
oured  herself  too  highly  to  seek  a  rehabilitation  through  his 
name,  he  came  here  and  threatened  this  poor  old  man's  life 
— threatened  to  denounce  him  as  a  thief,  and  have  him  hung 
at  a  cross-roads,  unless  she  gave  herself  to  him !  Then — then 
she  consented." 

Butler  was  sitting  forward  in  his  chair,  his  bloodless  face 
supported  between  his  slim  fingers,  his  eyes  on  vacancy.  He 
did  not  seem  to  hear  the  words  that  branded  him;  he  did  not 
appear  to  see  us  as  we  drew  closer  around  him. 

"In  the  orchard,"  muttered  Mount;  u  we  can  hang  him 
with  his  own  bridle." 

We  paused  for  an  instant,  gazing  silently  at  the  doomed 
man.  Then  Mount  touched  him  on  the  shoulder. 

At  the  voiceless  summons  he  looked  up  at  us  as  though 
stunned. 

"  You  must  hang,"  said  Mount,  gravely. 

"  Not  that !  No !"  I  stammered ;  "  I  can't  do  it !  Give  him 
a  sword — give  him  something  to  fight  with!  Jack — I  can't 
do  it.  I  am  not  made  that  way !" 

There  was  a  touch  on  my  arm;  Silver  Heels  stood  beside 
me. 

"  Let  them  deal  with  him,"  she  murmured,  "  you  cannot 
fight  with  him;  there  is  no  honour  in  him." 

"  No ! — no  honour  in  him !"  I  repeated. 

He  had  risen,  and  now  stood,  staring  vacantly  at  me. 

"  Damnation !"  cried  Mount,  "  are  you  going  to  let  him 
loose  on  the  world  again?" 

"  I  cannot  slay  him,"  I  said. 

"  But  a  rope  can !"  said  Mount. 

469 


CARDIGAN 

"  Do  you  then  draw  it,"  I  replied,  "  and  never  rail  more 
at  the  hangman !" 

After  a  moment  I  unlocked  and  opened  the  door.  As  in 
a  trance,  Butler  passed  out  into  the  moonlight;  Mount  stole 
close  behind  him,  and  I  saw  his  broad  knife  glimmer  as  he 
followed. 

"  Let  him  go,"  I  said,  wearily.  "  I  choke  with  all  this  foul 
intrigue.  Is  there  no  work  to  do,  Jack,  save  the  sheriff's? 
Faugh !  Let  him  go !" 

Butler  slowly  set  foot  to  stirrup ;  Mount  snatched  the  pistol 
from  the  saddle-holster  with  a  savage  sneer. 

"  No,  no,"  he  said.  "  Trust  a  scoundrel  if  you  will,  lad, 
but  draw  his  fangs  first.  Oh,  Lord  above ! — but  I  hate  to  let 
him  go!  Shall  I?  I'll  give  him  a  hundred  yards  before  I 
fire !  And  I'll  not  aim  at  that !  Shall  I  ?" 

If  Butler  heard  him  he  made  no  sign.  He  turned  in  his 
saddle  and  looked  at  Silver  Heels. 

Should  I  let  him  loose  on  the  world  once  more  ?  God  knows 
I  am  no  prophet,  nor  pretend  to  see  behind  the  veil;  yet,  as 
I  stood  there,  looking  on  Walter  Butler,  I  thought  the  haze 
that  the  moon  spun  in  the  garden  grew  red  like  that  fearsome 
light  which  tinges  the  smoke  of  burning  houses,  and  I  re 
membered  that  dream  I  had  of  him,  so  long  ago,  when  I  saw 
him  in  the  forest,  with  blood  on  him,  and  fresh  scalps  at  his 
belt — and  the  scalps  were  not  of  the  red  men. 

Should  I,  who  had  him  in  my  power,  and  could  now  for 
ever  render  the  demon  in  him  powerless — should  I  let  him  go 
free  into  the  world,  or  send  him  forever  to  the  dreadful  abode 
of  lost  souls  ? 

War  was  at  hand.  War  would  come  at  dawn  when  the 
Grenadiers  marched  into  Concord  town.  To  slay  him,  then, 
would  be  no  murder.  But  now? 

Mount,  watching  me  steadily,  raised  his  rifle. 

"  No,"  I  said. 

What  was  I  to  do?  There  was  no  prison  to  hale  him  to; 
the  jails  o'  Boston  lodged  no  Tories.  Justice?  There  was 
no  justice  save  that  mockery  at  Province  House.  Law? 
Gage  was  the  law — Gage,  the  friend  of  this  man.  What  was 
I  to  do?  Once  again  Mount  raised  his  rifle. 

"  No,"  I  said. 

470 


CARDIGAN 

So  passed  Walter  Butler  from  among  us,  riding  slowly  out 
into  the  shadowy  world,  under  the  calm  moon.  God  witness 
that  I  conducted  as  my  honour  urged,  not  as  my  hot  blood  de 
sired — and  He  shall  deal  with  me  one  day,  face  to  face,  that 
I  let  loose  this  man  on  the  world,  yet  did  not  dream  of  the 
hell  he  should  make  of  Tryon  County  ere  his  red  soul  was 
fled  again  to  the  hell  that  hatched  it! 

So  rode  forth  mine  enemy,  Walter  Butler,  invulnerable  for 
me  in  his  armour  of  dishonour,  unpunished  for  the  woe  that 
he  had  wrought,  unmarked  by  justice  which  the  dawn  had 
not  yet  roused  from  her  long  sleep  in  chains. 

Again  Mount  raised  his  rifle. 

"  No,"  I  said. 


A  little  breeze  began  stirring  in  the  moonlit  orchard;  our 
horses  tossed  their  heads  and  stamped;  then  silence  fell. 

After  a  long  while  the  voice  of  Mount  recalled  me  to  my 
self  ;  he  had  drawn  poor  Renard  to  a  seat  on  the  rotting  steps 
of  the  porch. 

"  Now  do  you  know  me,  Cade  ?"  asked  Mount,  again  and 
again. 

The  Weasel  folded  his  withered  hands  in  his  lap  and  looked 
up,  solemnly. 

"  Cade  ?  Cade,  old  friend  ?"  persisted  Mount,  piteously, 
drawing  his  great  arm  about  the  Weasel's  stooping  shoulders. 

The  Weasel's  solemn  eyes  met  his  in  silence. 

Mount  forced  a  cheerful  laugh  that  rang  false  in  the  dark 
ness. 

"What!  Forget  the  highway,  Cade?  The  King's  high 
way,  old  friend?  The  moon  at  the  cross-roads?  Eh?  You 
remember?  Say  you  remember,  Cade." 

The  blank  eyes  of  the  Weasel  were  fixed  on  Mount. 

"The  forest?  Eh,  Cade?  Ho!— lad!  The  rank  smell  o' 
the  moss,  and  the  stench  of  rotting  logs  ?  The  quiet  in  the 
woods,  the  hermit-bird  piping  in  the  pines  ?  Say  you  remem 
ber,  old  friend !"  he  begged ;  "  tell  me  you  remember !  Ho ! 
lad,  have  you  forgot  the  tune  the  war-arrow  sings?" 

And  he  made  a  long-drawn,  whispering  whimper  with  his 
lips. 

471 


CARDIGAN 

In  pantomime  he  crouched  and  pointed;  the  Weasel's  mild 
eyes  turned. 

"  The  Iroquois !"  whispered  Mount,  anxiously.  "  They 
wear  O-Kwen-cha! — red  paint!  Hark  to  the  war-drums! 
Do  you  not  hear  them  chanting : 

"  Ha-wa-sa-say ! 
Ha-wa-sa-say!" 

The  Weasel's  eyes  grew  troubled;  he  looked  up  at  Mount 
trustfully,  like  a  child  who  refuses  to  be  frightened. 

"  I  hear  Che-ten-ha,  the  mouse ;  he  gnaws,  gnaws,  gnaws." 

"  No,  it  is  the  Iroquois !"  urged  Mount.  "  You  have  fought 
them,  Cade;  you  remember?  Say  that  you  remember!" 

"  I — I  have  fought  the  Iroquois,"  repeated  the  Weasel,  pass 
ing  his  hand  over  his  brow ;  "  but  it  was  years  ago — years 
ago — too  long  ago  to  remember — " 

"No,  no!"  cried  Mount,  "it  was  but  yesterday,  old  friend 
— yesterday!  And  who  went  with  you  on  the  burnt  trail, 
Cade?  Who  went  with  you  by  night  and  by  day,  by  star 
light  and  by  sun,  eating  when  you  ate,  starving  when  you 
starved,  drinking  deep  when  you  drank,  thirsting  when 
you  thirsted?  It  was  I,  Cade!"  cried  Mount,  eagerly;  "I!" 

"  It  was  Tah-hoon-to-whe,  the  night-hawk,"  murmured 
the  little  man. 

"  It  was  I,  Jack  Mount !"  repeated  the  forest-runner,  in  a 
loud  voice.  "Hark!  The  Iroquois  drums!  The  game's 
afoot,  Cade!  Rouse  up,  old  friend!  The  trail  is  free!" 

But  the  Weasel  only  stared  at  him  with  his  solemn,  aged 
eyes,  and  clasped  his  trembling  hands  in  his  lap. 

Mount  stood  still  for  a  long  while.  Slowly  his  eager  head 
sank,  his  arms  fell,  hopelessly.  Then,  with  a  gulping  sob, 
he  sank  down  beside  his  ancient  comrade,  and  hid  his  head 
in  his  huge  hands. 

The  Weasel  looked  at  him  with  sorrowful  eyes;  then  rose, 
and  came  slowly  towards  Silver  Heels. 

"  They  say  you  are  not'  my  daughter,"  he  said,  taking  Sil 
ver  Heels's  hands  from  mine.  "  They  tell  me  I  have  forgot 
ten  many  things — that  you  are  not  my  little  girl.  But — 
we  know  better,  my  child." 

He  bent  and  kissed  her  hands.  His  hair  was  white  as  frost. 

472 


CARDIGAN 

"We  know  better,  child,"  he  murmured.  "You  shall  tell 
me  all  they  say — for  I  cannot  understand — and  we  will  smile 
to  remember  it  all,  in  the  long  summer  evenings — will  we 
not,  my  child?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Silver  Heels,  faintly. 

"  There  is  much,  sir,  that  I  forget  in  these  days,"  he  said, 
turning  gravely  towards  me — "  much  that  I  cannot  recall. 
Age  comes  to  us  all  with  God's  mercy,  sir.  Pray  you  forgive 
if  I  lack  in  aught  of  courtesy  to  my  guests.  There  are  many 
people  who  stay  with  us — and  I  cannot  remember  all  names 
of  new  and  welcome  guests — believe  me,  most  welcome.  I 
think  your  name  is  Captain  Butler?" 

"  Sir  Michael  Cardigan,"  whispered  Silver  Heels. 

"  And  welcome,  always  welcome  to  us  here  in  Cambridge 
Hall,"  murmured  the  old  man,  staring  vacantly  about  him. 

Foxcroft,  who  had  gone  to  the  shabby  barn,  came  back 
and  whispered  that  there  were  no  horses  there,  and  no  vehicle 
of  any  description;  that  we  had  best  make  ready  for  a  jour 
ney  to  Albany  immediately,  and  abandon  the  house  and  its 
scant  furnishings  to  the  mercy  of  chance. 

I  left  it  to  him  and  to  Jack  Mount  to  persuade  poor  Re- 
nard  that  a  journey  was  necessary  that  very  night;  and 
to  them  also  I  left  the  care  of  providing  for  us  as  best  they 
might,  saying  that  I  had  no  money  until  I  could  reach  Al 
bany,  and  that  my  horse  Warlock  was  to  carry  Miss  War 
ren. 

When  Mount  had  drawn  poor  Cade  away,  and  when  Fox- 
croft  began  rummaging  the  great  house  for  what  necessaries 
and  provisions  it  might  contain,  Silver  Heels  took  me  by  the 
hand  and  led  me  up  the  creaking  old  stairs  and  across  the 
gallery  to  her  own  chamber.  The  moonlight  flooded  the 
room  as  we  entered,  making  its  every  corner  sparkle. 

Save  for  the  great  four-posted  bed  with  its  heavy  canopy, 
there  was  in  the  room  nothing  but  a  pine  table  and  a  jug 
and  basin. 

"  So  poor  am  I,"  she  whispered,  close  beside  my  face. 

"Is  this  all?"  I  asked. 

"  All  save  the  clothes  on  my  body,  Michael." 

"  Silver  Heels !  Silver  Heels !"  I  said,  sorrowfully,  holding 
her  by  the  hands  and  never  moving  my  eyes  from  her  tender 

473 


CARDIGAN 

eyes.  And  we  looked  and  looked,  nor  gazed  our  fill,  and 
the  light  of  her  sweet  presence  was  like  moonlight  which 
swam  in  the  silvery  room,  bathing  me  to  the  soul  of  me 
with  deep  content. 

"All  these  piteous  days!"  she  said,  slowly. 

"  Ay — all  of  them !  And  each  hour  a  year,  and  each  night 
fall  a  closing  century.  Silver  Heels!  Silver  Heels!  You 
are  unchanged,  dear  heart!" 

"  Thin  to  my  bones,  and  very,  very  old — like  you,  Michael." 

"  We  have  young  souls." 

"Yes,  Michael.     We  are  young  in  all  save  sorrow." 

"  And  you  are  so  tall,  Silver  Heels — " 

"  Span  my  waist !" 

"My  hand  would  span  it.  Ah!  Your  head  comes  not 
above  my  chin  for  all  your  willow  growth !" 

"  Your  hands  are  rough,  Sir  Michael." 

"  Your  hands  are  satin,  sweet." 

"Yet  I  wash  my  kerchief  and  my  shifts  in  suds." 

How  the  moon  glowed  and  glowed  on  her. 

"You  grow  in  beauty,  Silver  Heels,"  I  said. 

"  When  you  are  with  me  I  do  truly  feel  beauty  growing  in 
me,  Michael." 

We  sat  down  together  on  the  great  bed's  edge,  her  face 
against  mine,  and  looked  out  at  the  faint  stars  which  the 
glory  of  the  moon  had  not  yet  drowned  in  light. 

Far  in  the  night  a  cock  crowed  in  the  false  dawn. 

"You  have  suffered,  sweet?"  I  whispered. 

"Ay.    And  you?" 

"  Much,"  I  replied. 

After  a  long  while  she  spoke. 

"You  have  never  wavered — not  once — not  for  one  mo 
ment?" 

"  Once." 

In  a  faint  whisper,  "When?" 

"  On  the  road  from  Albany,  dear  heart." 

"You  rode  in  company?" 

"  Not  of  my  choice." 

"Who?" 

"  Do  not  ask." 

"Who?" 

474 


CARDIGAN 

"  I  cannot  tell—" 

"Who?" 

"  In  honour." 

"You  wavered?" 

"There  was  no  danger  when  I  thought  of  you." 

She  raised  her  face;  her  mouth  touched  mine,  then  clung 
to  it,  and  I  breathed  the  sweetest  breath  a  maid  e'er  drew, 
and  all  my  soul  grew  dim  and  warm  and  faint,  with  her 
arms  now  around  my  neck,  now  clinging  to  my  shoulders,  and 
her  face  like  a  blossom  crushed  to  mine. 

Trembling  in  limb  and  body  she  stood  up,  brushing  her 
gray  eyes  awake  with  slender  fingers. 

"  Ah,  what  happiness,  what  happiness !"  she  whispered. 
"  I  am  all  a-quiver,  and  I  burn  to  the  soul  of  me.  What 
strange,  sweet  mischief  is  there  in  your  lips,  Michael?  Nay 
— do  not  touch  me — dear,  dear  lad ;  not  now — not  yet." 

She  leaned  from  the  open  casement ;  in  the  intense  stillness 
a  voice  broke  out  from  below : 

"Ready,  Cardigan!     The  horses  wait  at  the  barn!" 

As  she  had  no  cloak  I  wrapped  her  in  mine,  and,  passing 
my  arm  around  her,  led  her  down  to  the  porch  and  out  across 
the  orchard  to  the  barn  where  Renard  sat,  mounted  on  his  old 
comrade's  horse. 

Warlock  came  to  my  call;  he  nosed  the  little  hand  that 
Silver  Heels  held  out,  and  laid  his  head  close  to  hers. 

"Bear  her  safely,  Warlock!"  I  muttered,  huskily,  and 
lifted  her  to  the  saddle,  bidding  Foxcroft  mount  his  own 
horse,  as  I  would  walk  beside  Miss  Warren. 

So  we  started,  Foxcroft  in  the  van,  then  the  Weasel,  with 
Mount  afoot,  leading  the  horse,  then  Silver  Heels  in  her 
saddle,  with  one  hand  on  my  shoulder  as  I  walked  at  her 
side,  rifle  trailed. 

"  There  is  a  road  which  swings  north,"  said  Foxcroft, 
"  We  must  circle  Lexington." 

"  There  is  a  road  yonder,"  called  out  Mount. 

Foxcroft  hesitated. 

"I  think  it  leads  to  Roxbury,"  he  said;  "I  cannot  tell 
if  it  be  the  road." 

"Is  it  the  Roxbury  Road,  Cade?"  asked  Mount,  cheer 
fully. 

475 


CARDIGAN 

"  Doubtless,  doubtless,"  replied  the  Weasel,  vacantly,  star 
ing  at  Silver  Heels. 

"  He  does  not  remember,"  whispered  Silver  Heels. 

"  Try  it,"  said  Mount ;  "  I  doubt  not  but  that  it  swings 
far  north  o'  Lexington.  If  this  were  the  forest  'twixt  Saint 
Sacrement  and  Pitt  I'd  vouch  for  us  all,  but  the  smell  o' 
the  town  has  dulled  and  blunted  my  nose,  and  I  see  no 
longer  like  a  tabby  in  a  dark  pantry." 

He  moved  into  the  road,  following  Foxcroft,  and  leading 
the  horse  on  which  Cade  Renard  was  mounted.  I  came  last 
with  Silver  Heels. 

The  moon  was  well  on  her  journey  towards  the  dark  world's 
edge  ere  we  came  to  a  cross-roads;  but  the  four  finger-posts 
were  missing,  and  we  found  ourselves  no  wiser  than  before. 
Foxcroft  voiced  his  misgivings  that  we  were  on  the  Lexington 
Road  after  all,  and  not  on  the  road  to  Roxbury,  as  we 
should  surely  have  crossed  the  Concord  Road  ere  this. 

And  he  was  right,  for  in  a  few  moments  we  came  in  full 
view  of  the  Lexington  Meeting-house,  with  the  Concord 
Road  running  into  our  road  on  the  left  and  "  Buckman's  Tav 
ern  "  on  the  right,  all  ablaze  with  candles  set  in  every  window, 
and  a  great  stable  lanthorn  shining  in  the  centre  of  the  road. 

"  It  is  past  three  in  the  morning,"  said  Foxcroft,  looking 
at  his  watch.  "  The  British  should  have  been  here  ere  this 
if  they  were  coming  at  all." 

Mount  threw  his  rifle  into  the  hollow  of  his  left  arm, 
and,  tossing  his  horse's  bridle  to  Foxcroft,  walked  towards 
"  Buckman's  Tavern  "  where,  in  the  lanthorn  light,  a  throng 
of  men  were  standing. 

I  heard  him  greet  them  with  a  hearty  "  God  save  our 
country  " ;  then  he  disappeared  in  the  crowd. 

The  night  had  turned  chilly;  I  buttoned  my  riding-coat 
across  Silver  Heels's  throat  and  covered  her  head  with  the 
cape,  tying  it  under  her  chin  like  a  hood. 

Presently  Mount  came  striding  back,  rifle  on  shoulder, 
followed  by  an  hostler  with  a  stable  light. 

"  The  militia  have  been  yonder  under  arms  since  mid 
night,"  he  said.  "  A  messenger  rode  in  ten  minutes  since 
with  news  that  the  road  was  clear  and  no  British  coming. 
We  can  get  a  post-chaise  here  " — he  nodded  towards  the  hos- 

476 


CARDIGAN 

tier  who   stood   swinging  his   lamp   in   one   hand   and   his 
firelock  in  t'other. 

"  I  guess  the  redcoats  ain't  a-coming,  gentlemen,"  said 
the  hostler,  with  a  grin. 

"  Then  we  had  best  bait  at  the  tavern,"  said  Foxcroft, 
quickly;  and  he  led  the  way,  riding  beside  the  Weasel,  who 
seemed  utterly  indifferent  to  his  surroundings. 

As  we  threaded  our  path  through  the  crowd  of  men  and 
boys  I  noticed  that  all  were  armed  with  rifles  or  old-time 
firelocks,  and  some  even  with  ancient  blunderbusses  and 
bell-muzzled  matchlocks.  They  appeared  to  be  a  respect 
able  company,  mostly  honest  yokels  from  the  village,  clad  in 
plain  homespun.  A  few  wore  the  militia  uniform;  one  or 
two  officers  were  dressed  in  the  full  uniform  of  the  Third 
Suffolk  Regiment.  They  eyed  us  curiously  as  we  passed 
through  their  straggling  ranks ;  one  called  out :  "  The  forest- 
runners  are  with  us!  Hurrah!"  But,  for  the  most  part, 
they  regarded  us  quietly,  readily  making  way  for  me  as  I 
came  up,  leading  Warlock  with  Silver  Heels  in  the  saddle, 
cloaked  to  the  eyes. 

A  servant,  wearing  a  pistol  in  his  belt,  brought  us  bread 
and  hot  stirabout  in  a  great  blue  bowl.  This  dry  fare  we 
washed  with  ale,  Silver  Heels  tasting  a  glass  of  Madeira  to 
warm  her  chilled  body. 

It  was  a  silent,  thoughtful  repast.  Mount,  sitting  close 
beside  the  Weasel,  urged  the  old  man  to  eat,  and  he  did, 
mechanically,  with  dazed  eyes  fixed  on  space. 

One  thing  I  began  to  notice :  he  no  longer  watched  Silver 
Heels  with  that  humble,  devoted,  hungering  mien  of  a  guar 
dian  hound ;  he  scarcely  appeared  to  be  aware  of  her  presence 
at  all.  Once  only  he  spoke,  asking  what  had  become  of  his 
rifle;  and  Mount,  eager  and  hopeful,  brought  his  own  rifle 
to  the  stricken  man.  But  the  Weasel  had  already  forgot 
ten  what  he  had  asked  for,  and  he  glanced  at  the  weapon 
listlessly,  his  hands  folded  before  him  on  the  cloth. 

Though  her  life  had  nigh  been  wrecked  forever  by  this 
poor  madman,  Silver  Heels,  sitting  at  his  elbow,  watched 
over  him  with  a  serious  tenderness  and  pity,  doing  for  him 
those  little  offices  which  do  become  the  children  of  the 
aged  and  infirm,  and  which,  God  grant,  our  children  shall 

477 


CARDIGAN 

fulfil  towards  us.  And  so  I  saw  her  with  the  salt-box, 
savouring  his  stirabout  so  that  it  should  be  seasoned  to  his 
liking,  and,  with  the  cone  of  sugar,  chip  such  morsels  with 
her  knife  as  he  might  mumble  when  he  chose. 

Presently  Foxcroft  went  to  the  stables  to  see  that  our 
post-chaise  was  well  provisioned  for  the  journey,  and  Mount 
led  Renard  away  to  watch  the  feed-bags  filled  for  our  horses' 
provender. 

Silver  Heels,  still  wrapped  in  my  riding-cloak,  laid  her  slim 
hand  on  my  arm,  and  we  walked  together  to  the  tavern  porch. 

The  road  from  Boston  divides  in  front  of  the  Meeting 
house,  forming  two  sides  of  a  grassy  triangle,  on  the  base 
of  which  stands  the  Meeting-house,  facing  down  the  Boston 
Road.  Near  this  village  green  a  few  armed  men  still  lin 
gered  in  the  faint  light  of  dawn,  conversing  in  low  voices, 
and  glancing  often  down  the  deserted  Boston  Road. 

A  score  of  men  sat  around  us  on  the  damp  tavern  steps, 
listlessly  balancing  their  rifles  between  their  knees,  some 
smoking  wooden  pipes,  some  dozing,  some  drinking  early 
milk  from  a  bucket  brought  by  a  small,  freckled  lad  who 
wore  neither  hat  nor  shoes. 

"  Do  you  desire  some  fresh  milk,  lady  ?"  he  asked,  gazing 
solemnly  up  at  Silver  Heels. 

She  smiled  faintly,  took  the  proffered  dipper,  and  drank 
a  little. 

"  No  pay,  lady,"  he  said,  as  I  drew  out  some  coins  which 
Foxcroft  had  loaned  me ;  "  the  redcoats  are  comin',  and  we 
need  to  for-ti-fy  the  in-ner  man — and  the  in-ner  lady,"  he 
added,  politely. 

A  soldier  looked  up  and  laughed. 

"  That's  what  the  little  rascal  heard  Captain  Parker  say," 
he  drawled,  much  amused,  while  the  barefoot  Ganymede 
withdrew,  blushing  and  embarrassed,  to  act  as  cup-bearer  to 
others  who  had  beckoned  him. 

"  We've  got  a  hundred  an'  thirty  militia  here  already," 
volunteered  a  drummer-boy  who  lolled  on  the  porch,  fondling 
his  wet  drum ;  "  but  Captain  Parker,  he  let  'em  go  into  the 
houses  around  the  green  because  he  guesses  the  redcoats  ain't 
a-comin',  but  I'm  to  stay  here  an'  drum  like  the  devil  if  the 
redcoats  come." 

478 


CAEDIGAN 

"  An'  I'm  to  fife  if  they  come !"  added  another  boy,  stoutly. 

I  glanced  down  at  the  big,  painted  drum,  all  beaded 
with  dew,  and  I  read  "  Louisburg  "  written  in  white  letters 
on  the  hoops. 

"  We  have  some  old  Louisburg  soldiers  here,"  said  the 
urchin,  proudly.  "  The  redcoats  say  that  we  be  all  cowards, 
but  I  guess  we  have  fit  battles  for  'em  long  enough." 

"You  are  over-young  to  fight  in  war,"  said  Silver  Heels, 
gently. 

"  No,  ma'am,  we  ain't !"  they  retorted,  in  a  breath.  "  We'll 
give  'em  '  Yankee  Doodle  '  this  time,  my  lady !" 

"  '  Yankee  Doodle,' "  repeated  Silver  Heels,  mystified. 

"  A  foolish  song  the  British  play  in  Boston  to  plague 
us,"  I  explained. 

Presently  Silver  Heels  touched  my  arm.  "  See  yonder — 
look  at  that  man,  down  there  in  the  road!  See  him  running 
now,  Michael!" 

I  turned  and  looked  down  the  Boston  Road ;  the  little  bare 
legged  drummer  stood  up. 

.Faintly  came  the  far  cry  through  the  misty  chill :  "  The 
British  are  coming!  The  British  are  coming!" 

The  next  instant  the  wet,  stringy  drum  banged  and  buzzed 
on  the  tavern  porch,  drowning  all  other  sounds  in  our  ears ;  a 
score  of  men  stumbled  to  their  feet,  rifles  in  hand;  the  little 
fifer  blew  a  whistling  call,  then  ran  out  into  the  road. 

At  that  same  moment  our  post-chaise  lumbered  around  the 
corner  of  the  tavern  yard  and  drew  up  before  us,  Mount  act 
ing  as  post-boy,  and  Foxcroft  and  the  Weasel  riding  together 
in  the  rear. 

Mount  apprehended  the  situation  at  a  glance ;  he  motioned 
me  to  place  Silver  Heels  in  the  chaise,  which  I  did,  with  my 
eyes  still  fixed  on  the  foggy  Boston  Road. 

"  Is  it  a  false  alarm  ?"  inquired  Foxcroft,  anxiously,  as  a 
few  of  the  militia  came  running  past  our  chaise.  "Ho! 
Harrington !  Hey !  Bob  Monroe !  Is  it  true  they  are  com 
ing,  lads?" 

Harrington  and  Monroe,  whom  I  had  met  in  Boston  at  the 
"  Wild  Goose,"  waved  their  arms  to  us,  and  called  out  that 
it  was  doubtless  true. 

"  Which  way  ?"  cried  Foxcroft,  standing  up  in  his  stirrups. 

479 


CARDIGAN 

But  the  militia  and  Minute  Men  ran  out  without  answer 
ing,  and  joined  the  line  which  was  slowly  forming  on  the 
green,  while  the  old  Louisburg  drum  rolled,  vibrating  sono 
rously,  and  the  fife's  shrill  treble  pierced  the  air. 

There  was  a  uniformed  officer  in  front  of  the  ragged  line, 
shouting  orders,  gesticulating,  pushing  men  into  place; 
some  sidled  nearer  to  their  comrades  as  though  for  shelter, 
many  craned  their  necks  like  alarmed  turkeys,  a  few  huddled 
into  groups,  charging  and  priming  their  pieces  —  some 
threescore  yokels  in  all,  though  others  were  running  from 
the  houses  and  joining  the  single  rank,  adding  to  the  disorder 
and  confusion.  And  all  the  while  the  old  Louisburg  drum 
thundered  the  assembly. 

"  Cardigan,  which  way  are  they  coming  ?"  cried  Foxcrof t, 
still  standing  up  in  his  stirrups.  "  They  say  there  are  red 
coats  behind  us  and  more  in  front  of  us !" 

"  Do  those  ragged  rascals  mean  to  face  a  British  army  ?" 
exclaimed  Mount,  reining  in  his  horse,  which  had  begun  to 
rear  at  the  noise  of  the  drum. 

"  Turn  your  horses,  Jack !"  I  said,  holding  Warlock  by 
the  head ;  "  turn  back  towards  Concord !" 

"  There's  redcoats  on  the  Concord  Road !"  cried  a  woman, 
running  out  of  a  house  close  by.  I  saw  her  hurry  across 
to  the  village  green,  carrying  a  sack  of  home-moulded  bul 
lets. 

Jonathan  Harrington  caught  her  arm,  took  the  bullet- 
pouch,  kissed  her;  then  she  hastened  back  to  the  little  house 
and  stood  at  the  window,  peering  out  with  white  face 
pressed  to  the  dark  glass. 

I  flung  myself  astride  Warlock,  wheeled  the  restless  horse, 
and  ranged  up  alongside  Mount. 

"  Can  we  not  take  the  Bedford  Road  ?"  I  asked,  anxiously. 

"  They  say  the  British  are  betwixt  us  and  the  west,"  re 
plied  Mount.  His  eyes  had  begun  to  burn  with  a  steady, 
fierce  light;  he  sat  astride  the  off  horse,  cocking  and  un 
cocking  his  rifle. 

"  Then  we  should  make  for  the  Boston  Road !"  I  said, 
impatiently;  "we  can't  stay  here — " 

"  Look  yonder  1"  broke  in  Foxcroft,  excitedly. 

Out  into  the  Boston  Road,  in  the  gray  haze  of  dawn,  trotted 

480 


CARDIGAN 

a  British  officer,  superbly  mounted.  The  pale  light  glimmer 
ed  on  his  silver  gorget;  the  gold  on  his  sleeves  and  hat 
sparkled. 

Straight  on  his  heels  marched  the  British  infantry,  moving 
walls  of  scarlet  topped  with  shining  steel,  rank  after  rank, 
in  magnificent  alignment,  pouring  steadily  into  the  square, 
with  never  a  drum-beat  to  time  the  perfect  precision  of 
their  black-gaitered  legs. 

"  Halt !"  cried  a  far  voice ;  the  red  ranks  stood  as  one 
man.  An  officer  galloped  alongside  of  the  motionless  lines, 
and,  leaning  forward  in  his  saddle,  shouted  to  the  disordered 
group  of  farmers,  "  Stop  that  drum !" 

"  Fall  in!  Fall  in!"  roared  the  captain  of  the  militia;  the 
old  Louisburg  drum  thundered  louder  yet. 

"  Prime !  Load !"  cried  the  British  officers,  and  the  steady 
call  was  repeated  from  company  to  company,  and  yet  to 
companies  unseen,  far  down  the  Boston  Road. 

Twoscore  of  spectators  had  now  so  hemmed  in  our  post- 
chaise  that  we  could  not  move  without  crushing  them,  yet  I 
struggled  ceaselessly  to  back  the  vehicle  into  the  stable-yard, 
and  Foxcroft  begged  the  crowd  to  move  and  let  the  chaise 
pass. 

We  had  scarcely  succeeded  in  reaching  the  corner  of  the 
yard,  and  the  body  of  the  chaise  was  now  safe  from  bullets, 
when  a  British  major  galloped  into  the  green,  motioning 
violently  to  the  militia  with  his  drawn  sword. 

"  Disperse !     Disperse !"  he  called  out,  angrily. 

"  Stand  your  ground !"  roared  the  militia  captain.  "  Don't 
fire  unless  fired  upon !  But  if  they  mean  to  have  a  war,  let  it 
begin  here!" 

"  Disperse !"  shouted  the  British  major.  "  Lay  down  your 
arms !  Why  don't  you  lay  down  your  arms  and  disperse — " 

A  shot  cut  him  short;  his  horse  gave  a  great  bound,  back 
ed,  lashed  out  with  both  hind  feet,  then  reared  in  agony. 

"  My  God !  they've  shot  his  horse !"  cried  Foxcroft. 

"  'Tis  his  own  men,  then,"  broke  in  Mount ;  "  I  marked 
the  smoke." 

"  Disperse !"  bellowed  the  maddened  officer,  dragging  his 
horse  to  a  stand-still — "  disperse,  ye  rebels !" 

Behind  a  stone  wall  a  farmer  rose  and  presented  his  fire- 
2n  481 


CARDIGAN 

lock,  but  the  piece  flashed  in  the  pan.  A  shot  rang  out,  but 
I  could  not  see  who  fired. 

Far  down  the  Boston  Road  the  solid  front  of  a  second 
British  column  appeared. 

Already  some  of  the  Minute  Men  were  quitting  the  single, 
disordered  rank  on  the  green  which  still  wavered,  facing  the 
regulars;  but  their  captain  continued  in  front  of  his  men, 
and  the  drummer  still  drummed  his  hoarse  challenge. 

Then  a  British  officer  fired  his  pistol  from  the  saddle,  and, 
before  any  one  could  move  or  lift  a  finger,  a  bright  sheet  of 
flame  girdled  the  British  front,  and  the  deafening  roar  of 
musketry  shook  the  earth. 

Through  the  low  rushing  billows  of  smoke  that  gushed  out 
over  the  ground  like  foam,  I  saw  the  British  major  rise  in 
his  stirrups,  and,  reversing  his  sword,  drive  it  downward 
as  signal  to  cease  firing.  Other  officers  rode  up  through  the 
smoke,  shouting  orders  which  were  lost  in  the  dropping 
shots  from  the  militia,  now  retreating  on  a  run  past  us  up  the 
Bedford  Road. 

"Look  at  Harrington,"  cried  Mount;  "he's  down  under 
that  smoke!" 

But  Harrington  rose,  and  reeled  away  towards  his  own 
house.  I  saw  his  wife  at  the  door;  the  wounded  man  also 
saw  her,  and  feebly  stretched  out  his  hands  as  though  calling 
for  aid,  then  he  pitched  forward  on  his  face  and  lay  still,  one 
hand  clutching  his  own  door-step. 

"  Halt !"  shouted  the  British  major,  plunging  about  on 
his  wounded  horse  through  the  smoke.  "  Stop  that  firing ! 
D'ye  hear  what  I  say?  Stop  it!  Stop  it!"  And  again  and 
again  he  reversed  his  sword  in  frantic  signals  which  no  one 
heeded. 

An  officer  cantered  up,  calling  out :  "  Major  Pitcairn ! 
Major  Pitcairn!  Are  you  hit,  sir?" 

A  volley  from  the  British  Tenth  Foot  drowned  hie  voice, 
and  the  red-coated  soldiers  came  bursting  through  the  smoke 
on  a  double-quick,  shouting  and  hoisting  their  mitre-caps 
on  the  points  of  their  bayonets.  Behind  them  the  grenadiers 
rushed  forward,  cheering. 

A  soldier  of  the  light  infantry  in  front  of  the  Meeting 
house  flung  up  his  musket  and  fired  at  an  old  man  who  was 

482 


CARDIGAN 

hobbling  across  the  street;  shots  came  quicker  and  quicker; 
I  saw  my  acquaintance,  Monroe,  attempt  to  traverse  the  road 
towards  the  tavern;  he  was  rolling  in  the  mud  ere  he  had 
taken  two  steps.  A  grenadier  ran  after  a  lank  farmer  and 
caught  him  by  the  collar;  the  farmer  tripped  up  the  red 
coat  and  started  to  run,  but  they  brought  him  to  his  knees 
in  the  road,  and  then  shot  him  to  death  under  their  very 
feet. 

I  galloped  to  the  chaise  and  jerked  the  horses  back,  then 
wheeled  them  westward  towards  Bedford,  where  the  remnants 
of  the  militia  were  sullenly  falling  back,  firing  across  at  the 
British,  now  marching  on  past  the  Meeting-house  up  the 
Concord  Road. 

"No!  No!"  cried  Foxcroft,  "we  cannot  risk  it!  Stay 
where  you  are !" 

"  We  cannot  risk  being  butchered  here !"  I  replied.  Silver 
Heels  was  standing  straight  up  in  the  chaise,  one  hand 
holding  to  the  leather  curtain.  Her  face  had  grown  very 
white. 

"  They've  killed  a  poor  young  man  behind  that  barn !" 
she  whispered,  as  I  leaned  from  my  saddle  and  motioned  her 
to  crouch  low.  "  They  shot  him  twice,  and  struck  him  with 
their  muskets !" 

I  glanced  hastily  towards  the  barn  and  saw  a  dark  heap 
lying  in  the  grass  behind  it.  Three  red-coated  soldiers  stood 
near,  loading  their  muskets  and  laughing. 

"Look  at  the  Weasel!"  muttered  Mount,  jerking  my  arm 
as  my  horse  ranged  up  beside  his. 

The  Weasel  was  hastily  climbing  out  of  his  saddle,  rifle  in 
hand.  His  face,  which  a  few  moments  before  had  been  hag 
gard  and  vacant,  had  grown  flushed  and  eager,  his  eyes 
snapped  with  intelligence,  his  head  was  erect,  and  his  move 
ments  quick  as  a  forest-cat's. 

"  Cade !"  quavered  Mount.  "  Cade,  old  friend,  what  are 
you  doing  ?" 

"Come!"  cried  the  Weasel,  briskly;  "can't  you  see  the 
redskins  ?" 

"  Redcoats !  Redcoats !"  cried  Mount,  anxiously.  "  Where 
are  you  going,  Cade  ?  Come  back !  Come  back !  They  can't 
hit  us  here !  Redcoats,  Cade,  not  redskins !" 

483 


CARDIGAN 

"  They  be  all  one  to  me!"  replied  the  Weasel,  briskly,  scut 
tling  away  to  cover  under  a  tuft  of  hazel. 

"Don't  shoot,  Cade!"  bawled  Mount.  "Wait  till  we  can 
gather  our  people !  Wait !  Hell  and  damnation !  don't  fire !" 

"  Bang !"  went  the  Weasel's  long  brown  rifle ;  a  red-coated 
soldier  on  the  Concord  Road  dropped. 

"  He's  done  it !     God  help  us !"  groaned  Foxcroft. 

"Hold  those  horses!"  said  Mount,  desperately.  I  seized 
the  leaders,  Mount  slipped  from  his  saddle  to  the  ground,  and 
ran  out  to  the  long,  dead  grass  behind  the  Meeting-house. 
I  could  see  him  catch  the  Weasel  by  the  arm  and  attempt  to 
drag  him  back  by  force,  but  the  mad  little  creature  clung 
obstinately  to  his  patch  of  hazel. 

"He  won't  come!"  shouted  Mount,  turning  towards  me. 

As  he  turned,  I  saw  the  entire  British  column  marching 
swiftly  up  the  Concord  Road,  a  small  flanking  party  thrown 
out  on  the  right.  The  Weasel  also  saw  the  troops  and  made 
haste  to  level  his  rifle  again,  but  Mount  fell  upon  him  and 
dragged  him  down  into  the  marsh-grass. 

From  the  Bedford  Road  our  militia  fired  slowly  across 
at  the  fast  vanishing  troops  on  the  Concord  Road;  the  Brit 
ish  flanking  party  returned  the  fire,  but  the  main  column  paid 
no  heed  to  the  shots,  and  pressed  on  in  silence,  without  music, 
without  banners,  without  a  drum-tap  to  mark  their  rapid 
march.  No  British  soldiers  came  our  way;  they  appeared 
to  disdain  the  groups  of  militia  retreating  along  the  Bedford 
Road;  their  rear-guard  fired  a  few  scattering  shots  into 
"  Buckman's  Tavern  "  at  long  range,  then  ran  on  to  keep  in 
touch  with  the  main  body. 

Both  the  Weasel  and  Mount  were  now  deliberately  firing 
at  the  British  flanking  party,  which  had  halted  on  a  bit  of 
ploughed  ground,  and  seemed  to  be  undecided  whether  to 
continue  their  march  or  return  and  punish  the  two  foolhardy 
riflemen  whose  bullets  had  already  knocked  one  big  soldier 
flat  on  his  back  across  the  fresh  furrows. 

All  at  once  six  red-coated  soldiers  started  running  towards 
Jack  Mount  and  the  Weasel.  I  shouted  to  warn  the  infatu 
ated  men.  Silver  Heels  caught  my  arm. 

"  I  cannot  leave  them  there !"  I  stammered ;  "  I  must  go  to 
them!" 

484 


CARDIGAN 

"  Foxcroft  will  guard  me  1"  she  murmured.  "  Go  to  them, 
dearest !" 

"  Foxcrof  1 !  Hold  these  horses !"  I  cried,  flinging  War 
lock's  bridle  to  him,  and  slipping  out  of  my  saddle. 

Rifle  a-trail,  I  ran  across  the  road,  leaped  the  fence,  and 
plunged  into  the  low  bushes.  Jack  Mount  turned  a  cool, 
amused  eye  on  me  as  I  came  up. 

"The  Weasel  is  right,"  he  said,  triumphantly;  "we'll 
catch  a  half-dozen  red-birds  now.  Be  ready  when  I  draw 
their  fire,  lad;  then  drop  and  run  forward  through  the 
swamp !  You  know  how  the  Senecas  fight.  We'll  catch  them 
alive!" 

Over  the  tops  of  the  low  bushes  I  could  see  the  soldiers 
coming  towards  us,  muskets  half  raised,  scanning  the  cover 
for  the  game  they  meant  to  bag,  thrusting  their  bayonets 
into  bushes,  beating  the  long  grass  with  their  gunstocks  to 
flush  the  skulking  quarry  for  a  snap-shot. 

Without  warning,  Mount  rose,  then  sank  to  the  ground 
as  a  volley  rattled  out;  and  instantly  we  three  ran  forward, 
bent  double.  In  a  moment  more  I  sprang  up  from  the 
swamp-grass  beside  a  soldier  and  knocked  him  flat  with  a 
blow  from  my  rifle-stock.  Mount  shot  at  another  and  missed 
him,  but  the  fellow  promptly  threw  down  his  musket,  yelling 
lustily  for  quarter. 

The  four  remaining  soldiers  attempted  to  load,  but  the 
Weasel  tripped  up  one,  with  a  cartridge  half  bitten  in  his 
mouth,  and  the  other  three  were  chased  and  caught  by  some 
Acton  militia,  who  came  leaping  across  the  swampy  covert 
from  the  Bedford  Road. 

When  the  Acton  men  returned  with  their  prisoners,  the 
soldier  whom  I  had  struck  was  sitting  up  in  the  swamp-grass, 
rubbing  his  powdered  head  and  staring  wildly  at  his  sweat 
ing  and  anxious  comrades. 

"  That's  the  fellow  who  murdered  Harrington !"  said  one 
of  the  militia,  and  drew  up  his  rifle  with  a  jerk. 

"  Use  these  prisoners  well,  or  I'll  knock  your  head  off !" 
roared  Mount,  striking  up  the  rifle. 

An  officer  of  Minute  Men  came  up;  his  eyes  were  red  as 
though  he  had  been  weeping. 

"  They  butchered  his  brother  behind  the  red  barn  yonder," 

485 


C  A  It  D  I  G  A  S 

whispered  a  lean  yokel  beside  me.     "  He'll  hang  'em,  that's 
what  he'll  do." 

"  That's  it !  Hang  'em !"  bawled  out  a  red-headed  lout, 
flourishing  a  pitchfork.  "Hang  the  damn — !" 

"  Put  that  fool  under  arrest,"  said  the  officer,  sharply. 
Some  Acton  Minute  Men  seized  the  lout  and  hustled  him  off; 
others  formed  a  guard  and  conducted  the  big,  perspiring, 
red-coated  soldiers  towards  "  Buckman's  Tavern." 

"  You  will  treat  them  humanely  ?"  I  asked,  as  the  officer 
passed  me. 

He  gave  me  a  blank  glance;  the  tears  again  had  filled 
his  eyes. 

"  Certainly,"  he  said,  shortly;  "  I  am  not  a  butcher." 

I  gave  him  the  officer's  salute;  he  returned  it  absently, 
and  walked  on,  with  drawn  sword  and  head  sunk  on  his 
tarnished  brass  gorget. 

A  restless,  silent  crowd  had  gathered  at  "  Buckman's  Tav 
ern,"  where  two  dead  Minute  Men  lay  on  the  porch,  stiffen 
ing  in  their  blood. 

The  sun  had  not  yet  risen,  but  all  the  east  was  turning  yel 
low;  great  clouds  of  red-winged  blackbirds  rose  and  settled 
in  the  swampy  meadows,  and  filled  the  air  with  their  dry 
chirking;  robins  sang  ecstatically. 

Back  along  the  muddy  Bedford  Road  trudged  the  remnants 
of  the  scattered  Lexington  company  of  militia;  the  little 
barelegged  drummer  posted  himself  in  front  of  the  Meeting 
house  once  more,  and  drummed  the  assembly.  Men  seemed 
to  spring  from  the  soil;  every  bramble-patch  was  swarming 
now;  they  came  hurrying  across  the  distant  fields  singly,  in 
twos  and  threes,  in  scores. 

Far  away  in  the  vague  dawn  bells  rang  out  in  distant  vil 
lages,  and  I  heard  the  faint  sound  of  guns  and  the  throbbing 
of  drums.  I  passed  the  Lexington  company  re-forming  on 
the  trodden  village  green.  Their  captain,  Parker,  called 
out  to  me :  "  Forest-runner !  We  need  your  rifle !  Will  you 
fight  with  us?" 

"  I  cannot,"  I  said,  and  ran  towards  the  post-chaise,  rifle 
on  shoulder. 

The  women  and  children  of  Lexington  were  gathered 
around  it.  I  saw  at  a  glance  that  Silver  Heels  had  given 

486 


CARDIGAN 

her  seat  to  a  frightened  old  woman,  and  that  other  women 
were  thrusting  their  children  into  the  vehicle,  imploring 
Mount  and  Foxcroft  to  save  them  from  the  British. 

"  Michael,"  said  Silver  Heels,  looking  up  with  cool  gray 
eyes,  "  the  British  are  firing  at  women  in  the  farm-houses  on 
the  Concord  Road  above  here.  We  must  get  the  children 
away." 

"And  you?"  I  asked,  sharply.  She  lifted  a  barefooted 
urchin  into  the  chaise  without  answering. 

A  yoke  of  dusty,  anxious  oxen,  drawing  a  hay-cart,  came 
clattering  up,  the  poor  beasts  running  heavily,  while  their 
driver  followed  on  a  trot  beside  them,  using  his  cruel  goad 
without  mercy. 

"  Haw !  Haw !  Gee !  Gee !  Haw !"  he  bellowed,  guiding 
his  bumping  wagon  into  the  Bedford  Road. 

"  The  children  here !"  called  out  Silver  Heels,  in  her  clear 
voice,  and  caught  up  another  wailing  infant,  to  soothe  it 
and  lift  it  into  the  broad  ox-wagon. 

In  a  moment  the  wagon  was  full  of  old  women  and  frantic 
children;  a  young  girl,  carrying  a  baby,  ran  alongside, 
begging  piteously  for  a  place,  but  already  other  vehicles  were 
rattling  up  behind  gaunt,  rusty  horses,  and  places  were  found 
for  the  frightened  little  ones  in  the  confusion. 

Some  boys  drove  a  flock  of  sheep  into  the  Bedford  Road; 
a  herd  of  young  cattle  broke  and  ran,  scattering  the  sheep. 
Mount  and  I  sprang  in  front  of  Silver  Heels,  driving  the 
cattle  aside  with  clubbed  rifles.  Then  there  came  a  heavy 
pounding  of  horses'  hoofs  in  the  mud,  a  rush,  a  cry,  and 
a  hatless,  coatless  rider  drew  up  in  a  cloud  of  scattering 
gravel. 

"  More  troops  coming  from  Boston !"  he  shouted  in  his 
saddle.  "  Lord  Percy  is  at  Roxbury  with  three  regiments, 
marines,  and  cannon !  Paul  Revere  wras  taken  at  one  o'clock 
this  morning!"  And  away  he  galloped,  head  bent  low, 
reeking  spurs  clinging  to  his  horse's  gaunt  flanks. 

Silver  Heels,  standing  beside  me  in  the  hanging  morning 
mist,  laid  her  hand  on  my  arm. 

"  If  the  British  are  at  Roxbury,"  she  said,  "  we  are  quite 
cut  off,  are  we  not?" 

I  did  not  answer.  Mount  turned  a  grave,  intelligent  eye 

487 


CAfiDIGAK 

on  me;  Foxcroft  came  up,  wiping  the  mud  and  sweat  from 
his  eyes. 

At  that  moment  the  drum  and  fife  sounded  from  the  green ; 
the  Lexington  company,  arms  trailing,  came  marching  into 
the  Bedford  Road,  Indian  file,  Captain  Parker  leading. 

Beside  him,  joyous,  alert,  transfigured,  trotted  the  Weasel. 
"We've  got  them  now!"  he  called  out  to  Mount.  "We'll 
catch  the  redskins  with  our  hands  at  Charlestown  Neck !" 

The  little  barelegged  drummer  nodded  seriously;  the  old 
Louisburg  drum  rumbled  out  the  route-march. 

Into  "  Buckman's  Tavern  "  filed  the  Lexington  men  and 
fell  to  slamming  and  bolting  the  wooden  shutters,  piercing 
the  doors  and  walls  for  rifle-fire,  piling  tables  and  chairs  and 
bedding  along  the  veranda  for  a  rough  breastwork. 

"  You  must  come  with  the  convoy,"  I  said,  taking  Silver 
Heels  by  the  hand. 

Her  grave,  gray  eyes  met  mine  in  perfect  composure. 

"  We  must  stay,"  she  said. 

"  They  are  bringing  cannon — can  you  not  understand  ?"  I 
repeated,  harshly. 

"  I  will  not  go,"  she  said.  "  Every  rifle  is  required  here. 
I  cannot  take  you  from  these  men  in  their  dire  need.  Dear 
heart,  can  you  not  understand  me?" 

"  Am  I  to  sacrifice  you  ?"  I  asked,  angrily.  "  No !"  I  cried. 
"  We  have  suffered  enough — ' 

Tears  sprang  to  her  eyes;  she  laid  her  hand  on  my  rifle. 

"  Other  women  have  sent  their  dearest  ones.  Am  I  less 
brave  than  that  woman  whose  husband  died  yonder  on  his 
own  door-sill?  Am  I  a  useless,  passionless  clod,  that  my 
blood  stirs  at  naught  but  pleasure?  Look  at  those  dead  men 
on  the  tavern  steps !  Look  at  our  people's  blood  on  the  grass 
yonder!  Would  you  wed  with  a  pink-and-white  thing  whose 
veins  run  water?  I  saw  them  kill  that  poor  boy  behind  his 
own  barn! — these  redcoat  ruffians  who  come  across  an  ocean 
to  slay  us  in  our  own  land.  Do  you  forget  I  am  a  soldier's 
child?" 

A  loud  voice  bellowing  from  the  tavern :  "  Women  here 
for  the  bullet-moulds!  Get  your  women  to  the  tavern!" 

She  caught  my  hand.  "  You  see  a  maid  may  not  stand  idle 
in  Lexington!"  she  said,  with  a  breathless  smile. 

488 


CHAPTEK   XXVIII 

SILVER  HEELS  stood  in  the  tap-room  of  "  Buckman's 
Tavern  "  casting  bullets ;  the  barefoot  drummer  watched 
the  white-hot  crucible  and  baled  out  the  glittering  molten 
metal  or  fed  it  with  lumps  of  lead  stripped  from  the  gate 
post  of  Hooper's  house  in  Danvers. 

Near  the  window  sat  some  Woburn  Minute  Men,  cross- 
legged  on  the  worn  floor,  rolling  cartridges.  From  time  to 
time  the  parson  of  Woburn,  who  had  come  to  pray  and 
shoot,  took  away  the  pile  of  empty  powder-horns  and  brought 
back  others  to  be  emptied. 

The  tavern  was  dim  and  damp ;  through  freshly  bored  loop 
holes  in  the  shutters  sunlight  fell,  illuminating  the  dark 
interior. 

In  their  shirts,  barearmed  and  bare  of  throat  to  the  breast 
bone,  a  score  of  Lexington  Minute  Men  stood  along  the  line 
of  loopholes,  their  long  rifles  thrust  out.  They  had  no  bay 
onets,  but  each  man  had  driven  his  hunting-knife  into  the 
wall  beside  him. 

Jack  Mount  and  the  Weasel  lay,  curled  up  like  giant  cats, 
at  the  door,  blinking  peacefully  out  through  the  cracks  into 
the  early  sunshine.  I  could  hear  their  low- voiced  conversa 
tion  from  where  I  stood  at  my  post,  close  to  Silver  Heels : 

"  Redcoats,  Cade,  not  redskins,"  corrected  Mount.  "  Brit 
ish  lobster  -  backs  —  eh,  Cade?  You  remember  how  we 
drubbed  them  there  in  Pittsburg,  belt  and  buckle  and  ram 
rod—eh,  Cade?" 

"  That  was  long  ago,  friend." 

"  Call  me  Jack !  Why  don't  you  call  me  Jack  any  more  ?" 
urged  Mount.  "  You  know  me  now,  don't  you,  Cade  ?" 

"  Ay,  but  I  forget  much.     Do  you  know  how  I  came  here  ?" 

"  From  Johnstown,  Cade — from  Johnstown,  lad !" 

"  I  cannot  remember  Johnstown." 

489 


CARDIGAN 

Presently  the  Weasel  peered  around  at  Silver  Heels. 

"  Who  is  that  young  lady  ?"  he  asked,  mildly. 

Silver  Heels  heard  and  smiled  at  the  old  man.  The  faintest 
quiver  curved  her  mouth;  there  was  a  shadow  of  pain  in  her 
eyes. 

The  fire  from  the  crucible  tinted  her  cheeks;  she  raised 
both  bared  arms  to  push  back  her  clustering  hair.  Hazel 
gray,  her  brave  eyes  met  mine  across  the  witch-vapour  curl 
ing  from  the  melting-pot. 

"  Do  you  recall  how  the  ferret,  Vix,  did  bite  Peter's  tight 
breeches,  Michael  ?" 

"  Ay,"  said  I,  striving  to  smile. 

"And — and  the  jack-knife  made  by  Barlow?" 

"Ay." 

She  flushed  to  the  temples  and  looked  at  my  left  hand. 
The  scar  was  there.  I  raised  my  hand  and  kissed  the  blessed 
mark. 

"  Dear,  dear  Michael,"  she  whispered,  "  truly  you  were 
ever  the  dearest  and  noblest  and  best  of  all !" 

"  Unfit  to  kiss  thy  shoon's  latchet,  sweet — " 

"  Yet  hast  untied  the  latchets  of  my  heart." 

A  stillness  fell  on  the  old  tavern;  the  Minute  Men  stood 
silently  at  the  loopholes,  the  barefoot  drummer  sat  on  his 
drum,  hands  folded,  watching  with  solemn,  childish  eyes 
the  nuggets  of  lead  sink,  bubble,  and  melt. 

A  militiaman  came  down-stairs  for  a  bag  of  bullets. 

"  They  be  piping  hot  yet,"  said  the  drummer-boy,  "  and 
not  close  pared." 

But  the  soldier  carelessly  gathered  heaping  handfuls  in 
his  calloused  palms,  and  went  up  the  bare,  creaking  stairs 
ngain  to  his  post  among  the  pigeons. 

The  heat  of  the  brazier  had  started  the  perspiration  on 
Silver  Heels's  face  and  neck;  tiny  drops  glistened  like  fresh 
dew  on  a  blossom.  She  stood,  dreamily  brushing  with  the 
back  of  her  hand  the  soft  hair  from  her  brow.  Her  dark- 
fringed  eyes  on  me;  under  her  loosened  kerchief  I  saw  the 
calm  breathing  stir  her  neck  and  bosom  gently  as  a  white 
flower  stirs  at  a  breath  of  June. 

"The  scent  of  the  sweet-fern,"  she  murmured;  "do  you 
savour  it  from  the  pastures  ?" 

490 


CAKDIGAK 

I  looked  at  her  in  pity. 

"  Ay,  dear  heart,"  she  whispered,  with  a  sad  little  smile, 
"  I  am  homesick  to  the  bones  of  me,  sick  for  the  blue  hills  o1 
Tryon  and  the  whistling  martin-birds,  sick  for  the  scented 
brake  and  the  smell  of  sweet  water  babbling,  sick  for  your 
arm  around  me,  and  your  man's  strength  to  crush  me  to  you 
and  take  the  kiss  my  very  soul  does  ache  to  give." 

A  voice  broke  in  from  the  pigeon-loft  above,  "  Is  there  a 
woman  below  to  sew  bandages?" 

"  Truly  there  is,  sir,"  called  back  Silver  Heels. 

"  I'll  take  the  mould,"  said  the  small  drummer,  "  but  you 
are  to  come  when  the  fight  begins,  for  I  mean  to  do  a  deal  o' 
drumming !" 

She  started  towards  the  stairway,  then  turned  to  look  at 
me. 

"  My  post  is  wherever  you  are,"  I  said,  stepping  to  her  side. 

I  took  her  little  hand,  all  warm  and  moist  from  the  bullet- 
moulding,  and  I  kissed  the  palm  and  the  delicate,  rounded 
wrist. 

"  There  is  a  long  war  before  us  ere  we  find  a  home,"  I  said. 

"  I  know,"  she  said,  faintly. 

"A  long,  long  war;  separation,  sadness.  Will  you  wed 
me  before  I  go  to  join  with  Cresap's  men  ?" 

"  Ay,"  she  said. 

"  There  is  a  parson  below,  Silver  Heels." 

Her  face  went  scarlet. 

"  Let  it  be  now,"  I  whispered,  with  my  arm  around  her. 

She  looked  up  into  my  eyes.  I  leaned  over  the  landing-rail 
and  called  out,  "  Send  a  man  for  the  parson  of  Woburn !" 

An  Acton  man  stepped  out  on  the  tavern  porch  and  shouted 
for  the  parson.  Presently  the  good  man  came,  in  rusty  black, 
shouldering  a  fowling-piece,  his  pockets  bulging  with  a  Bible 
and  Book  of  Common  Prayer,  his  wig  all  caked  and  wet  from 
a  tour  through  the  dewy  willows  behind  the  inn. 

"  Is  there  sickness  here — or  wounds  ?"  he  asked,  anxiously. 
Then  he  saw  me  above  and  came  wheezing  up  the  stairs. 

"  Heart-sickness,  sir,"  I  said ;  "  we  be  dying,  both  of  us, 
for  the  heart's  ease  you  may  bring  us  through  your  holy  of 
fice." 

At  length  he  understood — Silver  Heels  striving  to  keep  her 

491 


CARDIGAN 

sweet  eyes  lifted  when  he  spoke  to  her,  and  I  quiet  and  deter 
mined,  asking  that  he  lose  no  time,  for  no  man  knew  how 
long  we  few  here  in  the  tavern  had  to  live.  In  the  same 
breath  I  summoned  a  soldier  from  the  south  loophole  in  the 
garret,  and  asked  him  to  witness  for  me;  and  he  took  off  his 
hat  and  stood  sheepishly  twirling  it,  rifle  in  hand. 

And  so  we  were  wedded,  there  in  the  ancient  garret,  the 
pigeons  coo-cooing  overhead,  the  blue  wasps  buzzing  up  and 
down  the  window-glass,  and  our  hands  joined  before  the  aged 
parson  of  Woburn  town.  I  had  the  plain  gold  ring  which  I 
had  bought  in  Albany  for  this  purpose,  nor  dreamed  to  wed 
my  sweetheart  with  it  thus! — and  O  the  sweetness  in  her 
lips  and  eyes  when  I  drew  it  from  the  cord  around  my  neck 
and  placed  it  on  her  smooth  finger  at  the  word! 

Little  else  I  remember,  save  that  the  old  parson  kissed  her, 
and  the  soldier  kissed  her  outstretched  hand,  and  let  his  gun 
fall  for  bashful  fright.  Nor  that  we  were  truly  wedded  did 
I  understand,  even  when  the  parson  of  Woburn  went  away 
down  the  creaking  stairs  with  his  fowling-piece  over  his 
shoulder,  leaving  us  standing  mute  together  under  the  canopy 
of  swinging  herbs.  We  still  held  hands,  standing  quiet,  in  a 
vague  expectation  of  some  mystery  yet  to  come.  Children 
that  we  were! — the  mystery  of  mysteries  had  been  wrought, 
never  to  be  undone  till  time  should  end. 

A  pigeon  flew,  whimpering,  to  the  beam  above  us,  then 
strutted  and  bowed  and  coo-cooed  to  its  startled,  sleek, 
white  sweetheart;  a  wind  blew  through  the  rafters,  stirring 
the  dry  bunches  of  catnip,  mint,  and  thyme,  till  they  swung 
above,  scented  censers  all,  exhaling  incense. 

There  was  a  pile  of  cotton  cloth  on  the  floor;  Silver  Heels 
sank  down  beside  it  and  began  to  tear  it  into  strips  for  sewing 
bandages. 

I  looked  from  the  window,  seeing  nothing. 

Presently  the  Minute  Man  at  the  south  loop  spoke: 

"  A  man  riding  this  way — there ! — on  the  Concord  Road !" 

Silver  Heels  on  the  floor  worked  steadily,  ripping  the 
snowy  cotton. 

"  There  is  smoke  yonder  on  the  Concord  Road,"  said  the 
Minute  Man. 

I  roused  and  rubbed  my  eyes. 

492 


AND    SO    WE    WERE    WEDDED 


CARDIGAN 

"  Do  you  hear  firing,"  he  asked,  "  far  away  in  the  west  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Concord  lies  northwest." 

Silver  Heels,  absorbed  in  her  task,  hummed  a  little  tune 
under  her  breath. 

"  The  smoke  follows  the  road,"  said  the  Minute  Man. 

The  firing  became  audible  in  the  room.  Silver  Heels  raised 
her  head  with  a  grave  glance  at  me.  I  went  and  knelt  beside 
her. 

"  It  is  coming  at  last,  little  sweetheart,"  I  said.  "  Will 
you  go,  now?  Foxcroft  will  take  you  across  the  fields  to 
some  safe  farm." 

"  You  know  Sir  William  would  not  have  endured  to  see  me 
leave  at  such  a  time,"  she  said. 

"  Yes,  dear  heart,  but  you  cannot  carry  a  rifle." 

"  But  I  can  make  bullets  and  bandages." 

"  The  British  fire  at  women ;  you  must  go !"  I  said,  aloud. 

"  I  will  not  go." 

"  I  command." 

"  No."  She  bent  her  fair,  childish  head  and  the  tears  fell 
on  the  cloth  in  her  lap. 

"Look!  Look  at  the  redcoats!"  called  out  the  Minute 
Man  at  the  attic  window. 

As  I  rose  I  heard  plainly  the  long,  resounding  crash  of 
musket  firing,  and  the  rattle  of  rifles  followed  like  a  hundred 
echoes. 

"  Look  3'onder !"  he  cried. 

Suddenly  the  Concord  Road  was  choked  with  scarlet-clad 
soldiers.  Mapped  out  below  us  the  country  stretched,  and 
over  it,  like  a  blood-red  monster  worm,  wound  the  British 
column — nay,  like  to  a  dragon  it  came  on,  with  flanking  lines 
thrust  out  east  and  west  for  its  thin  red  wings,  and  head  and 
tail  wreathed  with  smoke. 

And  now  we  could  see  feathery  puffs  of  smoke  from  the 
road  -  side  bushes,  from  distant  hills,  from  thickets,  from 
•  ploughed  fields,  from  the  long,  undulating  stone  walls  which 
crossed  the  plain.  Faster  and  faster  came  the  musket  volleys, 
but  faster  yet  rang  out  the  shots  from  our  yeomanry,  gather 
ing  thicker  and  thicker  along  the  British  route,  swarming 
in  from  distant  towns  and  hamlets  and  lonely  farms. 

493 


CARDIGAN 

The  old  tavern  was  ringing  with  voices  now — commands  of 
officers,  calls  from  those  who  were  posted  above,  clattering 
steps  on  the  porch  as  the  Acton  men  ran  out  to  their  posts 
behind  the  tufted  willows  in  the  swamp. 

He  who  had  been  placed  in  charge  at  the  tavern,  a  young 
officer  of  the  Woburn  Alarm  Men,  shouted  for  silence  and 
attention,  and  ordered  us  not  to  fire  unless  fired  upon,  as  our 
position  would  be  hopeless  if  cannon  were  brought  against 
us.  Then  he  commanded  all  women  to  leave  the  tavern  and 
seek  shelter  at  Slocum's  farm  across  the  meadows. 

"  No,  no !"  murmured  Silver  Heels,  obstinately,  as  I  took 
her  hand  and  started  for  the  stairs,  "  I  will  not  go, — I  can 
not — I  cannot!  Let  me  stay,  Michael;  for  God's  sake,  let 
me  stay!"  And  she  fell  on  her  knees  and  caught  at  my 
hands. 

"  To  your  posts !"  roared  the  Woburn  officer,  drawing  his 
sword  and  coming  up  the  stairs  two  at  a  jump.  He  stopped 
short  when  he  saw  Silver  Heels,  and  glanced  blankly  at  me; 
but  there  was  no  time  now  for  flight,  for,  as  he  stepped  to  the 
window  beside  me,  pell-mell  into  the  village  green  rushed  the 
British  light  infantry,  dusty,  exhausted,  enraged.  In  brutal 
disorder  they  surged  on,  here  a  squad  huddled  together,  there 
a  company,  bullied,  threatened,  and  harangued  by  its  officers 
with  pistols  and  drawn  swords;  now  a  group  staggering  past, 
bearing  dead  or  wounded  comrades,  now  a  heavy  cart  loaded 
with  knapsacks  and  muskets,  driven  by  hatless  soldiers. 

Close  on  their  heels  tramped  the  grenadiers.  Soldier  after 
soldier  staggered  and  fell  from  the  ranks,  utterly  exhausted, 
unable  to  rise  from  the  grass. 

The  lull  in  the  firing  was  broken  by  a  loud  discharge  of 
musketry  from  Fiske's  Hill,  and  presently  more  redcoats 
came  rushing  into  the  village,  while  at  their  very  heels  the 
Bedford  Alarm  Men  shot  at  them,  and  chased  them. 
Everywhere  our  militia  came  swarming  —  from  Sudbury, 
Westford,  Lincoln,  Acton;  Minute  Men  from  Medford,  from 
Stowe,  from  Beverly,  and  from  Lynn — and  their  ancient  fire 
locks  blazed  from  every  stone  wall,  and  their  long  rifles 
banged  from  the  distant  ridges. 

Below  me  in  the  street  I  saw  the  British  officers  striving 
desperately  to  reform  their  men,  kicking  the  exhausted  creat- 

494 


CARDIGAN 

ures  to  their  feet  again,  striking  laggards,  shoving  the  be 
wildered  and  tired  grenadiers  into  line,  while  thicker  and 
thicker  pelted  the  bullets  from  the  Minute  Men  and  militia. 

They  were  brave  men,  these  British  officers ;  I  saw  a  young 
ensign  of  the  Tenth  Foot  fall  with  a  ball  through  his 
stomach,  yet  rise  and  face  the  storm  until  shot  to  death  by 
a  dozen  Alarm  Men  on  the  Bedford  Road. 

It  was  dreadful;  it  was  doubly  dreadful  when  a  company 
of  grenadiers  suddenly  faced  about  and  poured  a  volley  into 
our  tavern,  for,  ere  the  crashing  and  splintered  wood  had 
ceased,  the  tavern  fairly  vomited  flame  into  the  square,  and 
the  British  went  down  in  heaps.  Through  the  smoke  I  saw 
an  officer  struggling  to  disengage  himself  from  his  fallen  and 
dying  horse;  I  saw  the  massed  infantry  reel  off  through  the 
village,  firing  frenziedly  right  and  left,  pouring  volleys  into 
farm-houses,  where  women  ran  screaming  out  into  the  barns, 
and  frantic  watch-dogs  barked,  tugging  at  their  chains. 

It  was  not  a  retreat,  not  a  flight;  it  was  a  riot,  a  horrible 
saturnalia  of  smoke  and  fire  and  awful  sound.  As  a  mad 
dened  panther,  wounded,  rushes  forth  to  deal  death  right  and 
left,  even  tearing  its  own  flesh  with  tooth  and  claw,  the 
British  column  burst  south  across  the  land,  crazed  with 
wounds,  famished,  athirst,  blood-mad,  dealing  death  and  ruin 
to  all  that  lay  before  it. 

Terrible  was  the  vengeance  that  followed  it,  hovered  on  its 
gasping  flanks,  scourged  its  dwindling  ranks,  which  withered 
under  the  searching  fire  from  every  tuft  of  bushes,  every 
rock,  every  tree-trunk. 

Already  the  ghastly  pageant  had  rushed  past  us,  leaving 
a  crimson  trail  in  its  wake;  already  the  old  tavern  door  was 
flung  wide,  and  our  Minute  Men  were  running  down  the  Bos 
ton  Road  and  along  the  ridges  on  either  side,  firing  as  they 
came  on. 

I,  with  Mount  and  the  Weasel,  hung  to  their  left  flank  till 
two  o'clock,  when,  about  half  a  mile  from  Lexington  Meeting 
house,  we  heard  cannon,  and  understood  that  the  relief  troops 
from  Boston  had  come  up. 

Then,  knowing  that  there  were  guns  enough  and  to  spare 
without  ours,  we  shouldered  our  hot  rifles  and  trudged  back 
to  "Buckman's  Tavern,''  through  the  dust,  behind  a  straw- 

495 


CARDIGAN 

covered  wain  which  was  driving  slowly  under  the  heat  of  an 
almost  vertical  sun. 

Mount,  parched  with  thirst,  hailed  the  driver  of  the  wain, 
asking  him  if  he  carried  cider. 

"  Only  a  wounded  man,"  he  said,  "  most  dead  o'  the  red 
dragoons." 

I  stepped  to  the  slowly  moving  wagon  and  looked  over  the 
tail-board  down  into  the  straw. 

"Shemuel!"  I  cried. 

"  Shemuel !"  roared  Mount. 

The  little  Jew  opened  his  sick  eyes  under  his  bandage.  The 
Weasel  climbed  nimbly  over  the  tail-board  and  settled  down 
beside  the  wounded  man,  taking  his  blood-smeared  hand. 

"Shemuel!  Shemuel!  We  saw  them  split  your  head!" 
stammered  Mount,  in  his  astonishment  and  joy. 

"  Under  my  hat  I  did  haff  a  capful  of  shillings,"  replied 
Shemuel,  weakly ;  "  I — I  go  back — two  days'  time  to  find  me 
my  money  by  dot  Lechemere  swamp — eh,  Jack  ?" 

"God  bless  you,  old  nosey!"  cried  Mount;  "we'll  get  your 
money,  lad !  Won't  we,  Cardigan  ?" 

The  little  Jew  turned  his  heavy  eyes  on  me. 

"  You  haff  found  Miss  Warren  ?"  he  gasped.  "  Ach,  so  iss 
all  well.  I  go  back — two  days'  time — find  me  my  money."  He 
smiled  and  closed  his  eyes. 

So  WTC  re-entered  Lexington,  Jack  Mount,  the  Weasel,  Saul 
Shemuel,  and  I;  and  on  the  tavern  steps  Silver  Heels  stood, 
her  tired,  colourless  face  lighted  up,  her  outstretched  hands 
falling  on  my  shoulders;  and  I  to  take  her  in  my  arms,  for 
she  had  fallen  a-weeping.  Above  us  the  splendid  blue  of  the 
sky  spread  its  eternal  tent,  our  only  shelter,  our  only  home 
on  the  long  trail  through  the  world;  our  lamp  was  the  sun, 
our  fireplace  a  continent,  and  the  four  winds  our  walls,  and 
our  estates  were  bounded  by  two  oceans,  washing  the  shores  of 
a  land  where  the  free,  at  last,  might  dwell. 

In  the  south  the  thunder  of  the  British  cannon  muttered, 
distant  and  more  distant ;  the  storm  had  passed. 

Had  the  storm  passed?  The  smoke  hung  in  the  north 
where  Concord  town  was  burning,  yet  around  us  birds  sang. 

And  now  came  Jack  Mount,  riding  postilion  on  the  horses 
which  drew  the  post-chaise;  behind  him  trotted  the  Weasel. 

496 


CAKDIGAN 

leading  out  Warlock.  Silver  Heels  saw  them  and  stood  up, 
smiling  through  her  tears. 

"  Truly,  we  stayed  and  did  our  duty,  did  we  not,  dear 
heart?" 

"  With  your  help,  sweet." 

"  And  deserted  not  our  own !" 

u  Yours  the  praise,  dear  soul." 

"  And  did  face  our  enemies  like  true  people  all ;  is  it  not 
so,  Michael?" 

"  It  is  so." 

"  Then  let  us  go,  my  husband.  I  am  sick  for  my  own 
land,  and  for  the  happiness  to  come." 

"  Northward  we  journey,  little  sweetheart." 

"  To  the  blue  hills  and  the  sweet-fern  2" 

"  Ay,  home." 

And  so  we  started  for  the  north,  out  of  the  bloody  village 
where  our  liberty  was  born  at  the  first  rifle-shot,  out  of  the 
sound  of  the  British  cannon,  out  of  the  land  of  the  salt  sea, 
back  to  the  inland  winds  and  the  incense  of  our  own  dear 
forests,  and  the  music  of  sweet  waters  tumbling  where  the 
white  pines  sing  eternally. 

I  rode  Warlock  beside  the  chaise;  Shemuel  lay  within; 
Silver  Heels  sat  beside  the  poor,  hurt  creature,  easing  his 
fevered  head;  but  her  eyes  ever  returned  to  me,  and  the 
colour  came  and  went  in  her  face  as  our  eyes  spoke  in  silence. 

"  Good-bye,"  said  Foxcroft,  huskily. 

Mount  squared  himself  in  his  saddle;  the  Weasel,  rifle  on 
thigh,  set  his  horse's  head  north. 

Slowly  the  cavalcade  moved  on;  the  robins  sang  on  every 
tree;  far  to  the  southward  the  thunder  of  the  British  cannon 
rolled  and  re-echoed  along  the  purple  hills;  and  over  all  God'? 
golden  light  was  falling  on  life,  and  love,  and  death. 


CHAPTER   XXIX 

WE  entered  Albany  on  the  22d  of  April;  the  town  had 
heard  the  news  from  Lexington  ere  we  sighted  the  Al 
bany  hills,  the  express  having  passed  us  as  we  crossed  the 
New  York  line,  tearing  along  the  river-bank  at  a  breakneck 
gallop. 

So,  when  we  rode  into  Albany,  the  stolid,  pippin-cheeked 
Dutchmen  had  later  news  than  had  we,  and  I  learned  then, 
for  the  first  time,  how  my  Lord  Percy's  troops  had  been 
hurled  headlong  through  Cambridge  Farms  into  Charles- 
town,  where  they  lay  like  panting,  slavering,  senseless  beasts 
under  the  cannon  of  the  Somerset  and  Asia.  And  all  Massa 
chusetts  sat  watching  them,  gun  in  hand. 

We  lay  at  the  house  of  Peter  Weaver,  my  lawyer,  Silver 
Heels  and  I;  Jack  Mount  and  Cade  Renard  lay  at  the 
"  Half  Moon,"  where  poor  Shemuel  could  procure  medicine 
and  such  medical  attendance  as  he  so  sorely  stood  in  need  of. 

With  Peter  Weaver  I  prepared  to  arrange  my  affairs  as 
best  I  might,  it  being  impossible  for  me  to  undertake  a  voy 
age  to  Ireland  at  this  time,  though  my  succession  to  the  title 
and  estates  of  my  late  uncle,  Sir  Terence,  made  it  most 
necessary. 

For  the  first  time  in  ^my  life  I  now  became  passably 
acquainted  with  my  own  affairs,  though  when  we  came  to 
figure  in  pounds,  shillings,  and  pence,  I  yawned,  yet  made 
pretence  of  a  wisdom  in  mathematics  which,  God  knows,  is 
not  in  me. 

Silver  Heels,  her  round  chin  on  my  shoulder,  listened  at 
tentively,  and  asked  some  questions  which  caused  the  ponder 
ous  lawyer  to  address  himself  to  her  rather  than  to  me, 
seeing  clearly  that  either  I  cared  nothing  for  my  own  affairs 
or  else  was  stupid  past  all  belief. 

Sir  William's  legacies  to  me  and  to  Silver  Heels  were  dis- 


CARDIGAN 

cussed  most  seriously;  and  Mr.  Weaver  would  have  it  that 
the  law  should  deal  with  my  miserable  kinsman,  Sir  John, 
for  the  fraud  he  had  wrought.  Yet,  it  was  exactly  thai:  and, 
because  he  was  my  kinsman,  I  could  not  drag  him  out  to 
cringe  for  his  infamy  before  the  rabble. 

The  land  and  the  money  left  to  us  by  Sir  William  we 
would  now,  doubtless,  receive,  but  it  was  only  because  Sir 
William  had  desired  it  that  we  at  length  made  up  our  minds 
to  accept  it  at  all. 

This  I  made  plain  to  Mr.  Weaver,  then  relapsed  into  a 
dull  inspection  of  his  horn  spectacles  as  he  discoursed  of 
mortgages  and  bonds  and  interests  and  liens  with  stupefying 
monotony. 

"  It  is  like  the  school-room,  Micky,"  murmured  Silver 
Heels,  close  to  my  ear,  and  composed  her  countenance  to 
listen  to  a  fluent  peroration  on  percentage  and  investments 
in  terms  which  were  to  me  as  vain  as  tinkling  cymbals. 

"  Then  I  am  wealthy  ?"  I  interposed,  again  and  again,  yet 
could  draw  from  that  fat  badger,  Weaver,  neither  a  "  yes  " 
nor  "  no,"  nor  any  plain  speech  fit  for  a  gentleman's  com 
prehension. 

So  when  at  length  we  quitted  Mr.  Weaver  a  sullen  mood 
possessed  me  and  I  felt  at  bay  with  all  the  learned  people  in 
the  world,  as  I  had  often  felt,  penned  in  the  school-room. 

"Am  I?"  I  asked  Silver  Heels. 

"What?" 

"  Rich  or  poor  ?  Tell  me  in  one  word,  dear  heart,  for 
whether  or  not  I  possess  a  brass  farthing  in  the  world,  I  do 
not  know,  upon  my  honour !" 

"  Poor  innocent,"  she  laughed ;  "  poor  unlearned  and  har 
assed  boy!  Know,  then,  that  you  have  means  to  purchase 
porridge  and  a  butcher's  roast  for  Christmas." 

"  I  be  serious,"  said  I,  anxiously,  "  and  I  would  know  if  I 
have  means  to  support  a  large  family — " 

"  Hush !"  said  Silver  Heels.  What  I  could  see  of  her  face, 
— one  small  ear, — was  glowing  in  rich  colour. 

"  Because — "  I  ventured.  But  she  plucked  at  my  arm  with 
lowered  eyes,  nor  would  hear  me  to  explain  that  I,  newly 
wedded,  viewed  the  future  with  a  hopeful  gravity  that  be 
fitted. 

499 


CARDIGAN 

"  As  for  a  house,"  said  I,  "  there  is  a  pleasant  place  of 
springs  called  Saratoga,  dearly  loved  by  Sir  William." 

"I  know,"  said  she,  quickly;  "it  comes  from  '  asserat/ 
sparkling  waters." 

"  It  comes  from  '  Soragh,'  which  means  salt,  and  '  Oga,'  a 
place—" 

"It  does  not,  Micky!" 

"It  does!" 

"  No !" 

"It  does!" 

"  Oc-qui-o-nis !  He  is  a  bear!"  said  Silver  Heels,  to  her 
self. 

We  stopped  in  the  hallway,  facing  each  other.  Something 
in  her  flushed,  defiant  face,  her  bright  eyes,  the  poise  of  her 
youthful  body,  brought  back  with  a  rush  that  day,  a  year  ago, 
when  I,  sneaking  out  of  the  house  to  avoid  the  school-room, 
met  her  in  the  hallway,  and  was  balked  and  flouted  and 
thrust  back  to  the  thraldom  of  the  school.  Here  was  the 
same  tormentor — the  same  child  with  her  gray  eyes  full  of 
pretty  malice,  the  same  beauty  of  brow  and  mouth  and  hair 
was  here,  and  something  added — a  maid's  delicate  mockery 
which  veiled  the  tenderness  of  womanhood ;  a  sweetheart  and 
a  wedded  wife. 

"  I  am  thinking  of  a  morning  very,  very  long  ago,"  I  said, 
slowly. 

"  I,  too,"  said  Silver  Heels. 

"  Almost  a  year  ago,"  I  said. 

"  A  year  ago,"  said  Silver  Heels. 

"You  little  wild-cat  thing!"  I  whispered,  tenderly,  and 
took  her  by  the  waist  so  that  her  face  lay  upturned  on  my 
shoulder. 

"  Stupid,"  she  said,  "  I  loved  you  that  very  day." 

"What  day?" 

"  The  day  we  both  are  thinking  on :  when  you  met  me  in 
the  hall  with  your  fish-rod  like  a  guilty  dunce — " 

"  You  wore  a  skirt  o'  buckskin  and  tiny  moccasins  and 
stockings  with  scarlet  thrums;  and  you  were  a-nibbling  a 
cone  of  maple-sugar,"  said  I. 

"  And  you  strove  to  trip  me  up !" 

"  And  you  pushed  me !" 

500 


CAKDIGAN 

"  And  you  thrust  Vix  at  me !" 

"  And  you  kicked  my  legs  and  ran  up-stairs  like  a  wild-cat 
thing." 

There  was  a  silence;  she  looked  up  into  my  face  from  my 
shoulder. 

"  This,,  for  a  belt  of  peace  betwixt  those  two  children  who 
live  in  memory,"  said  I,  and  kissed  her. 

"  Oonah !  All  is  lost,"  she  said ;  "  he  does  with  me  as  he 
will !"  and  she  rendered  me  my  kiss,  saying,  "  Bearer  of  belts, 
thy  peace-belt  is  returned." 

So  was  perfect  peace  established,  not  only  for  the  shadowy 
children  of  that  unforgotten  past,  but  for  us,  and  for  all  time 
betwixt  us;  and  our  belts  were  offered  and  returned,  and  the 
sign  was  the  touching  of  her  lips  and  mine. 

For  Shemuel's  sake,  and  because  we  would  not  desert  him, 
we  continued  in  Albany  until  near  the  end  of  April. 

Taking  counsel  together,  we  had  determined  to  build  a 
mansion,  when  the  times  permitted,  midway  on  the  road 
'twixt  Johnstown  and  Fonda's  Bush,  our  lands  joining  at 
that  place.  But  I  feared  much  that  the  war  which  now 
flamed  through  Massachusetts  Bay  might  soon  creep  north 
ward  into  our  forest  fastness  and  set  the  border  ablaze  from 
the  Ohio  to  Saint  Sacrement.  Much,  too,  I  feared  that  the 
men  of  the  woods  whose  skin  was  red  would  league  with  the 
men  whose  coats  were  red.  All  his  later  days  Sir  William 
had  striven  to  avert  this  awful  pact ;  Dunmore  played  against 
him,  Butler  betrayed  him,  Cresap  was  tricked,  and  Sir  Will 
iam  lost.  Now,  into  his  high  place  sneaked  a  pygmy,  slow, 
uncertain,  sullen,  treacherous — his  own  son,  who  would  undo 
the  last  knot  which  bound  the  Indians  to  a  fair  neutrality. 
Perhaps  he  himself  would  even  lead  them  on  to  the  dreadful 
devastation  all  men  dreaded;  and,  if  he,  men  must  also 
count  on  the  Butlers,  father  and  son,  to  carry  terror  through 
our  forests  and  hunt  to  death  without  mercy  all  who  stood  for 
freedom  and  the  rights  of  man. 

One  of  these  I  had  held  in  my  hand  and  released.  Yet 
still  that  old  certainty  haunted  me,  the  belief  that  one  day  I 
was  to  meet  and  kill  him,  not  in  honourable  encounter,  now, 
for  he  had  lost  the  right  to  ask  such  a  death  from  me ;  but  in 
the  dark  forest,  somewhere  among  the  corridors  of  silent 

501 


CARDIGAN 

pines,  I  would  slay  him  as  sachems  slay  ferocious  beasts  that 
track  men  through  ghost-trails  down  to  hell. 

Then  should  we  be  free  at  last  of  this  fierce,  misshapen 
soul,  we  People  of  the  Morning,  Tierhansaga,  and  the  shrink 
ing  forest  should  straighten,  and  Oya  should  be  Oyabanh, 
and  the  red  witch-flower  should  wither  to  a  stalk,  to  a  seed, 
and  sprout  a  fair  white  blossom  for  all  time,  Ahwehhah. 


That  night,  as  I  stood  on  the  steps  of  Peter  Weaver's  red 
brick  house,  turning  to  look  once  more  into  the  coals  of  the 
setting  sun  ere  I  entered  the  door,  a  hand  twitched  at  my 
coat-skirt,  and,  looking  down,  I  saw  below  me  on  the  pave 
ment  an  Indian  dressed  in  the  buckskins  of  a  forest-runner. 

"  Peter !"  I  cried,  for  it  was  he,  my  dusky  kinsman  on  the 
left  hand ;  then  my  eyes  fell  on  his  companion,  a  short,  squat 
savage,  clad  in  red,  and  painted  hideous  with  strange  signs 
I  could  not  read. 

"  Red  Jacket,"  said  Peter,  calmly. 

I  looked  hard  at  Peter;  he  had  grown  big  and  swart  and 
fat  like  a  bear-cub  in  November;  Red  Jacket  raised  his  sullen 
eyes,  then  dropped  them. 

Suddenly,  as  I  stood  there,  at  a  loss  what  next  to  say, 
came  a  heavy  man,  richly  clothed,  flabby  face  bent  on  the 
ground.  Nor  would  he  have  discovered  me,  so  immersed  in 
brooding  reverie  was  he,  had  not  Peter  touched  his  elbow. 

A  bright  flush  stained  his  face;  he  looked  up  at  me  where 
I  stood.  Then  I  descended  the  steps,  shoving  Peter  from 
between  us,  and  Sir  John  Johnson,  for  it  was  he,  moved 
back  a  pace  and  laid  his  heavy  hand  on  his  sword-belt  as  I 
came  close  to  him,  looking  into  his  cold  eyes. 

"  Liar  I"  I  said ;  "  liar !  liar !"  And  that  was  all,  for  he  gave 
ground,  and  his  hand  fell  limply  from  his  dishonoured  hilt. 

So  I  left  him,  there  in  the  darkening  street,  the  Indians 
watching  him  with  steady,  kindling  eyes. 

We  started  next  day  at  dawn.  Silver  Heels  riding  Warlock 
in  her  new  kirtle  and  little  French  three-cornered  hat  with 
its  gilt  fringe,  to  which  she  had  a  right,  as  she  was  now  My 
Lady  Cardigan,  if  she  chose. 

I  rode  a  bay  mare,  bought  in  Albany,  yet  a  beauty,  and 

502 


CARDIGAN 

doubtless  the  only  decent  horseflesh  in  all  that  town  of  rusty 
packers  and  patroons'  sorry  hacks.  Mount  and  the  Weasel, 
leather-clad,  and  gay  with  quilled  moccasins  and  brilliant 
thrums,  journeyed  afoot,  on  either  side  o'  Shemuel,  who 
bestrode  a  little  docile  ass. 

His  noddle,  neatly  mended  and  still  bound  up,  he  had  sur 
mounted  with  a  Quaker  hat  so  large  that  it  rested  on  his 
large  flaring  ears;  peddlers'  panniers  swung  on  either  flank, 
crammed  deep  with  gewgaws;  he  let  his  bridle  fall  on  the 
patient  ass's  neck,  and,  thumbs  in  his  armpits,  joined  lustily 
the  chorus  raised  by  Mount  and  Renard : 

"  Come,  all  ye  Tryon  County  men, 

And  never  be  dismayed; 
But  trust  in  the  Lord, 
And  He  will  be  your  aid!" 

Roaring  the  rude  chorus,  Jack  Mount  marched  in  the 
lead,  his  swinging  strides  measured  to  our  horses'  steady 
pacing;  beside  him  trotted  the  little  Weasel,  his  hand  holding 
tightly  to  the  giant's  arm ;  and  sometimes  he  took  three  steps 
to  Mount's  one,  and  sometimes  he  toddled,  his  little,  leather- 
bound  legs  twinkling  like  spokes  in  a  wheel,  but  ever  he 
chanted  manfully  as  he  marched : 

"0   trust   in   the   Lord, 

And  He  will  be  your  aid!" 

And  Shemuel's  fervent  whine  from  his  lowly  saddle  round 
ed  out  the  old  route-song. 

An  hour  later  I  summoned  Jack  Mount,  and  he  fell  back 
to  my  stirrups,  resting  his  huge  hand  on  my  saddle  as  he 
walked  beside  me. 

"  Jack,"  I  said,  "  is  poor  Cade  cured  o'  fancy  and  his  mad 
imaginings  ?" 

"  Ay,  lad,  for  the  time." 

"For  the  time?" 

"A  year,  two  years,  three,  perhaps.  This  is  not  the  first 
mad  flight  o'  fancy  Cade  has  taken  on  his  aged  wings." 

"  You  never  told  me  that,"  I  said,  sharply. 

"  No,  lad." 

"Why  not?" 

603 


CARDIGAN 

"  Do  you  spread  abroad  the  sorry  secrets  of  your  kin,  Mr. 
Cardigan?" 

"  He  i?  not  your  kin !" 

"  He  is  more,"  said  Mount,  simply. 

After  a  silence  I  asked  him  on  what  previous  occasion  the 
little  Weasel  had  gone  moon-mad. 

"  On  many — every  third  or  fourth  year  since  I  first  knew 
him,"  said  Mount,  soberly.  "  But  never  before  did  he  leave 
me  to  follow  his  poor  mad  phantoms — always  the  phantom  of 
his  wife,  lad,  in  divers  guises.  He  saw  her  in  a  silvery 
bush  o'  moonlight  nights,  and  talked  with  her  till  my 
goose  -  flesh  rose  and  crawled  on  me ;  he  saw  her  mirrored 
in  cold,  deep  pools  at  dawn,  looking  up  at  him  from  the 
golden-ribbed  sands,  and  I  have  laid  in  the  canoe  to  watch 
the  trouts'  quick  shadows  moving  on  the  bottom,  and  he 
a-talking  sweet  to  his  dear  wife  as  though  she  hid  under  the 
lily-pads  like  a  blossom." 

He  glanced  up  at  me  pitifully  as  he  walked  beside  my 
stirrup ;  I  laid  my  hand  on  his  leather-tufted  shoulder. 

"  Sir,  it  is  sad,"  he  muttered ;  "  a  fair  mind  nobly  wrecked. 
But  grief  cannot  deform  the  soul,  Mr.  Cardigan." 

"  He  knows  you  now  ?" 

"  Ay,  and  knows  that  he  has  dwelt  for  months  in  mad 
ness." 

"  Does  he  know  that  it  was  me  he  loved  so  deeply  in  his 
madness?"  asked  Silver  Heels,  gently. 

"  I  think  he  does,"  whispered  Mount. 

Silver  Heels  turned  her  sorrowful  eyes  on  poor  Cade 
Renard. 

Riding  that  afternoon  near  sunset,  at  the  False  Faces' 
Carrying  -  Place  upon  the  Mohawk,  we  spoke  of  Johnson 
Hall  and  the  old  life,  sadly,  for  never  again  could  we  hope 
to  enter  its  beloved  portals. 

Naught  that  belonged  to  us  remained  in  the  Hall,  save 
only  the  memories  none  might  rob  us  of. 

"  If  only  I  might  have  Betty,"  said  Silver  Heels,  wistfully. 

"Betty?  Did  she  not  attend  you  to  Boston  with  Sir 
John?"  I  asked. 

"  Yes,  but  she  was  slave  to  Sir  John.  I  could  not  buy  her ; 
you  know  how  poor  I  awoke  to  find  myself  in  Boston  town." 

504 


CARDIGAN 

"Would  not  that  brute  allow  you  Betty?"  I  asked,  an 
grily. 

"  No ;  I  think  he  feared  her.  Poor,  blubbering  Betty,  how 
she  wept  and  roared  her  grief  when  Sir  John  bade  her  pack 
up,  and  called  her  '  hussy.'  " 

That  night  we  lay  at  Schenectady,  where  also  was  camped 
a  body  of  Sir  William's  Mohawks,  a  sullen,  watchful  band, 
daubed  in  hunting-paint,  yet  their  quivers  hung  heavy  with 
triple-feathered  war-arrows,  and  their  knives  and  hatchets 
and  their  rifles  were  over-bright  and  clean  to  please  me. 

Some  of  them  knew  me,  and  came  to  talk  with  me  over  a 
birch-fire.  I  gave  them  tobacco,  and  we  tarried  by  the  birch- 
fire  till  the  stars  waned  in  the  sky  and  the  dawn-stillness  fell 
on  land  and  river ;  but  from  them  I  could  learn  nothing,  save 
that  Sir  John  and  Colonel  Guy  had  vowed  to  scalp  their  own 
neighbours  should  they  as  much  as  cry,  "  God  save  our  coun 
try  !"  Evil  news,  truly,  yet  only  set  me  firmer  in  my  design 
to  battle  till  the  end  for  the  freedom  that  God  had  given 
and  kings  would  take  away. 

Silver  Heels,  quitting  the  inn  with  Mount,  came  to  warn 
me  that  I  must  sleep  if  we  set  out  at  sunrise.  Graciously 
she  greeted  the  Mohawks  who  had  risen  to  withdraw;  they 
all  knew  her,  and  watched  her  like  tame  panthers  with  red 
coals  in  their  eyes. 

"  But  they  are  panthers  yet ;  forget  it  not,"  muttered  Jack 
Mount. 

At  sunrise  we  rode  out  into  the  blue  hills.  Homeless,  yet 
nearing  home  at  last,  my  heart  lifted  like  a  singing  bird. 
Dew  on  the  sweet-fern  exhaling,  dew  on  the  ghost-flower,  dew 
on  the  scented  brake! — and  the  whistle  of  feathered  wings, 
and  the  endless  ringing  chorus  of  the  birds  of  Tryon !  Hills 
of  pure  sapphire,  streams  of  gems,  limpid  necklaces  festooned 
to  drip  diamonds  from  crags  into  some  frothing  pool !  Pen 
dent  pearls  on  vines  starred  white  with  bloom;  a  dun  deer 
at  gaze,  knee-deep  in  feathering  willow-grass;  a  hermit-bird 
his  morning  hymn,  cloistered  in  the  vaulted  monastery  where 
the  great  organ  stirs  among  the  pines ! 

Hills!  Hills  of  Tryon,  unploughed,  unharrowed,  save  by 
the  galloping  deer;  hills,  sweet  islands  in  the  dark  pine 
ocean,  over  whose  waste  the  wild  hawk's  mewing  answers  the 

505 


CARDIGAN 

cry  of  its  high- wheeling  mate;  hills  of  the  morning,  aro 
matic  with  spiced  fern,  and  perfumed  of  the  gum  of  spruce 
and  balsam ;  hills  of  Tryon ;  my  hills !  my  hills ! 


"  The  spring  is  with  us,"  said  Jack  Mount,  stooping  to 
pluck  a  frail  flower. 

"  Ka-nah-wah-hawks,  the  cowslip !"  murmured  Silver 
Heels. 

"  Savour  the  wind ;  what  is  it  ?"  I  asked,  sniffing. 

"  O-neh-tah,  the  pine  I"  she  cried. 

"  0-ne-tah,  the  spruce !"  I  corrected. 

"The  pine,  silly!" 

"The  spruce!" 

"  No,  no,  the  pine !" 

"  So  be  it,  sweet." 

"  No,  I  am  wrong !" 

And  we  laughed,  and  she  stretched  out  her  slender  hand 
to  me  from  her  saddle. 

Then  we  galloped  forward  together,  calling  out  greeting 
to  our  old  friends  as  we  passed;  and  thus  we  saluted  Jis-kah- 
kah,  the  robin,  and  Kivi-yeh,  the  little  owl,  and  we  whistled 
at  Koo-koo-e,  the  quail,  and  mocked  at  old  Kah-kah,  the 
watchful  crow. 

Han-nah-wen,  the  butterfly,  came  flitting  along  the  road 
side,  ragged  with  his  long  winter's  sleep. 

"  He  should  not  have  slept  in  his  velvet  robe  for  a  night- 
shift,"  said  Silver  Heels;  "he  is  a  summer  spendthrift,  and 
Nah-wan-hon-tah,  the  speckled  trout,  lies  watching  him 
under  the  water." 

Which  set  me  thinking  of  my  feather-flies;  and  then  the 
dear  old  river  flashed  in  sight. 

"  I  see — I  see — there,  very  far  away  on  that  hill — "  whis 
pered  Silver  Heels. 

"  I  see,"  I  muttered,  choking. 

Presently  the  sunlight  glimmered  on  a  window  of  the  dis 
tant  Hall. 

"  We  are  on  our  own  land  now,  dear  heart,"  I  said,  chok 
ing  back  the  sob  in  my  throat. 

I  called  out  to  Jack  Mount  and  unslung  my  woodaxe.  He 

606 


CARDIGAN 

drew  his  hatchet,  and  together  we  cut  down  a  fair  young 
maple,  trimmed  it,  and  drove  a  heavy  post  into  the  soil. 

"  Here  we  will  build  one  day,"  said  I  to  Silver  Heels. 
She  smiled  faintly,  but  her  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  distant 
Hall. 

I  had  leased,  from  my  lawyer,  Peter  Weaver,  a  large  stone 
mansion  in  Johnstown,  which  stood  next  to  the  church  where 
Sir  William  lay;  this  until  such  time  as  I  might  return  from 
the  war  and  find  leisure  to  build  on  my  own  land  the  house 
which  Silver  Heels  and  I  had  planned  to  stand  on  a  hill,  in 
full  view  of  the  river  and  of  the  old  Hall  where  our  child 
hood  had  been  passed. 

It  was  night  when  we  rode  into  Johnstown.  I  could  dis 
cover  no  changes  in  the  darkness,  save  that  a  few  new  signs 
swung  before  lighted  shops,  and  every  fifth  house  hung  out 
a  lanthorn  and  a  whole  candle-light. 

Our  stone  house  was  vast,  damp,  and  scantily  furnished, 
but  Jack  Mount  lighted  a  fire  in  the  hallway,  and  Silver 
Heels  went  about  writh  a  song  on  her  lips,  and  Cade  Renard 
sent  servants  from  the  nearest  inn  with  cloth  and  tableware, 
and  meats  smoking  hot,  not  forgetting  a  great  bowl  of  punch 
and  a  cask  of  ale,  which  the  scullions  rolled  into  the  great 
hall  and  hoisted  on  the  skids. 

So  we  were  merry,  and  silent,  too,  at  moments,  when  our 
eyes  met  in  faint  smiles  or  wistful  sympathy. 

Shemuel,  with  his  peddling  panniers,  had  strangely  dis 
appeared,  nor  could  we  find  him  high  or  low  when  Mount  and 
Cade  had  set  their  own  table  by  the  fire  and  the  room  smelled 
sweet  with  steaming  toddy. 

"Thrift!  Thrift!"  muttered  Mount,  rattling  his  toddy- 
stick  impatiently ;  "  now  who  could  have  thought  that  little 
Jew  would  have  cut  away  to  make  up  time  in  trade  this 
night!" 

But  Shemuel  had  traded  in  another  manner,  for,  ere  Mount 
had  set  his  strong,  white  teeth  in  the  breast-bone  of  a  roasted 
fowl,  I  heard  Silver  Heels  cry  out:  "Betty!  Betty!  Oh 
dear,  dear  Betty!"  And  the  blubbering  black  woman  came 
rolling  in,  scarlet  turban  erect,  ear-rings  jingling. 

"  Mah  li'l  dove !  Mah  li'l  pigeon-dove !  Oh  Gord,  mah  li'l 
Miss  Honey-bee !" 

507 


CARDIGAN 

"  You  must  keep  her,  lad,"  muttered  Mount. 

"  I  think  Sir  John  will  sell,"  I  said,  grimly. 

And  so  he  did,  or  would  have,  had  not  his  new  wife,  poor 
Lady  Johnson,  whom  I  had  never  seen,  writing  from  the 
Hall,  begged  me  to  accept  Betty  as  a  gift  from  her.  And  I, 
having  no  quarrel  with  the  unhappy  lady,  accepted  Betty  as 
a  gift,  permitting  Lady  Johnson  to  secure  from  the  incident 
what  comfort  she  might. 

All  through  the  sweet  May-tide,  Jack  Mount  and  Cade 
Renard  sunned  themselves  under  the  trees  in  our  garden,  or 
sprawled  on  the  warm  porch  like  great,  amiable  wolf-hounds, 
dozing  and  dreaming  of  mighty  deeds. 

Ale  they  had  for  the  drawing,  yet  abused  it  not,  respect 
ing  the  hospitality  of  the  house  and  its  young  mistress,  and 
none  could  point  the  shameful  finger  at  either  to  cry :  "  Fie ! 
Pottle-pot!  Malt-worm!  Painted-nose!  Go  swim!"  At 
times,  sitting  together  on  the  grass,  cheek  by  jowl,  I  heard 
them  singing  hymns;  at  times  strolling  through  the  moon- 
drenched  garden  paths  they  lifted  up  their  souls  in  song: 

"The  hunter  has  taken  the  trail  to  the  East; 
The  little  deer  run!      The  little  deer  run! 
Fear  not,  little  deer,  for  he  hunts  the  Red  Beast; 
Ye  are  not  for  his  gun!      Ye  are  not  for  his  gun! 

"The  hunter  lies  cold  on  the  trail  to  the  East; 

His  bosom   is  rent!      His  bosom  is  rent! 
He  died  for  his  country,  to  slay  the  Red  Beast; 
To  Heaven  he  went!     To  Heaven  he  went!" 

In  the  moonlight  the  doleful  chant  droned  on,  night  after 
night,  under  the  dewy  lilacs;  and  the  great  horned-owl 
answered,  hooting  from  the  pines;  and  Silver  Heels  and  I 
listened  from  the  porch,  hand  clasping  hand  in  fearsome 
content.  For  out  in  the  dark  world  God  was  busy  shaping 
the  destiny  of  a  people;  even  the  black  forest  knew  it,  and 
thrilled  like  a  vast  harp  at  the  touch  of  the  free  winds' 
fingers — unseen  fingers,  delicate,  tentative,  groping  for  the 
key  to  a  chord  of  splendid  majesty.  And  when  at  last  the 
chord  should  be  found  and  struck,  resounding  to  the  deep 
world's  rock  foundation,  a  free  people's  voices  should  repeat, 
singing  forever  and  for  all  time  throughout  the  earth : 

508 


CAKDIGAN 

"Amen!" 

Meanwhile,  stillness,  moonlight,  and  a  "  Miserere  "  from  the 
lips  of  two  strange  forest-runner  folk,  free-born  and  ready 
when  the  Lord  of  all  led  forth  His  prophet  to  command. 

On  that  night  I  heard  a  man  in  the  street  repeat  a  name, 
Washington.  And  all  that  night  I  thought  of  it,  and  said 
it,  under  my  breath.  But  what  it  might  portend  I  knew  not 
then. 


May  ended,  smothered  in  flowers ;  and  with  the  thickening 
leaves  of  June  came  to  us  there  in  the  North  rumours  of  the 
times  which  were  to  try  men's  souls.  And  again  I  heard, 
somewhere  in  the  darkness  of  the  village  streets,  the  name  I 
heard  before;  and  that  night,  too,  I  lay  awake,  forming  the 
word  with  silent  lips,  close  to  my  young  wife's  breast. 

The  full,  yellow  moon  of  June  creamed  all  our  garden 
now;  Mount  and  Renard  sat  a-squat  upon  the  grass,  chin  on 
fist,  to  muse  and  muse  and  wait — for  what?  The  King  of 
England  did  not  know ;  but  all  the  world  was  waiting,  too. 

Then,  one  dim  morning,  while  yet  the  primrose  light  tinted 
the  far  hills,  I  awoke  to  see  Silver  Heels  in  her  white  night- 
robe,  leaning  from  the  casement,  calling  out  to  me  in  a 
strange,  frightened  voice :  "  Michael !  Michael !  They  are 
coming  over  the  hills — over  the  hills,  dear  heart,  to  take  you 
with  them !" 

At  the  window,  sniffing  the  fresh  dawn,  I  listened. 

"  Footfalls  in  the  hills !"  she  said,  trembling.  "  Out  of  the 
morning  men  are  coming !  God  make  me  brave !  God  make 
me  brave !" 

For  a  long  time  we  stood  silent;  the  village  slept  below 
us;  the  stillness  of  the  dawn  remained  unbroken,  save  by  a 
golden-robin's  note,  fluting  from  a  spectral  elm. 

"  It  is  not  yet  time,"  I  said ;  "  let  us  sleep  on,  dear  heart." 

But  she  would  not,  and  I  was  fain  to  dress  me  in  my 
leather,  lest  the  summons  coming  swift  might  find  me  all 
unready  at  the  call. 

Then  she  roused  Betty  and  the  maid  and  servants,  bidding 
them  call  up  Mount  and  Renard,  for  the  hour  was  close  upon 
us  all. 

509 


CARDIGAN 

u  Dear  love,"  I  said,  "  this  is  a  strange  fear  that  takes  you 
from  jour  pillows  there,  at  dawn." 

"Strange  things  befall  a  blindly  loving  heart,"  she  said; 
"  I  heard  them  in  my  dreams,  and  knew  them,  all  marching 
with  their  yellow  moccasins  and  raccoon-caps  and  green 
thrums  blowing  in  the  wind." 

"  Riflemen?" 

"  Ay,  dear  love." 

"  Foolish  prophetess !" 

"Too  wise!  Too  wise!"  she  whispered,  wearily,  nestling 
within  my  arms,  a  second  only,  then : 

"  Sir  Michael!"  roared  Mount  below  my  window;  "  Cresap 
is  on  the  hills  with  five  hundred  men  of  Maryland !" 

Stunned,  I  stared  at  Silver  Heels;  her  face  was  marble, 
glorified. 

As  the  sun  rose  I  left  her,  and,  scarce  knowing  what  I  did, 
threw  my  long  rifle  on  my  shoulder  and  ran  out  swiftly 
through  the  garden. 

Suddenly,  as  though  by  magic  summoned,  the  whole  street 
was  filled  with  riflemen,  marching  silently  and  swiftly,  with 
moccasined  feet,  their  raccoon  caps  pushed  back,  the  green 
thrums  tossing  on  sleeve  and  thigh.  On  they  came,  rank  on 
rank,  like  brown  deer  herding  through  a  rock  run;  and,  on 
the  hunting-shirts,  lettered  in  white  across  each  breast,  I 
read: 

LIBERTY  OR  DEATH. 


Mount  and  the  Weasel  came  up,  rifles  shouldered,  coon- 
skin  caps  swinging  in  their  hands.  Mount  shyly  touched  the 
hand  that  Silver  Heels  held  out;  Cade  Renard  took  the  fin 
gers,  and,  bending  above  them  with  a  flicker  of  his  aged  gal 
lantly,  pressed  them  with  his  shrivelled  lips. 

"  We  will  watch  over  your  husband,  my  lady,"  he  said, 
raising  his  dim  eyes  to  hers. 

"  Ay,  we  will  bring  him  back,  Lady  Cardigan,"  muttered 
Jack  Mount,  twisting  his  cap  in  his  huge  paws. 

Silver  Heels,  holding  them  each  by  the  hand,  strove  to 
speak,  but  the  voice  in  her  white  throat  froze,  and  she  only 
looked  silently  from  them  to  me  with  pitiful  gray  eyes. 

510 


CARDIGAN 

"To  kill  the  Red  Beast,"  muttered  Mount;  "it  is  quickly 
done,  Lady  Cardigan.  Then  your  husband  will  return." 

"To  kill  the  Beast,"  repeated  Renard;  "the  Red  Beast 
with  twin  heads.  Ay,  it  can  be  done,  my  lady.  Then  he  will 
return." 

"  I  swear  it !"  cried  Mount,  flinging  up  his  great  arm. 
"  He  will  return." 

"  To  doubt  it  is  to  doubt  God's  grace,  child.  He  will  re 
turn,"  said  Cade  Renard. 

She  looked  at  me,  at  Mount,  at  the  Weasel,  then  at  the 
torrent  of  dusty  riflemen  steadily  passing  without  a  break. 

"  If  he — he  must  go — "  she  began.  Her  voice  failed ;  she 
caught  my  hands  and  kissed  them. 

"  For  our  honour — go !"  she  gasped.  "  Michael  I  Michael ! 
Come  back  to  me — " 

"  Truly,  dear  heart— truly !  truly!" 

"  Ho !  Cardigan !"  rang  out  a  voice  like  a  pistol-shot  from 
the  passing  ranks. 

Through  my  tear-dimmed  eyes  I  saw  Cresap,  sword  shin 
ing  in  his  hand. 

"  We  come,"  cried  Mount,  shaking  his  rifle  towards  the 
rising  sun ;  "  death  to  the  Red  Beast !" 

"  Death  to  the  Beast !"  shouted  Cresap,  shaking  his  shining 
sword. 

Half  a  thousand  heavy  rifles  shook  high;  half  a  thousand 
deep  voices  roared  thunderously  through  the  stony  street : 

"  Liberty !    Liberty  or  DeathJ" 


THE     END 

AND  now  that  of  a  truth  the  Red  Beast  is  slain,  as  all 
men  know,  follow  these  mellow  years  through  which  our 
children  move,  watching  the  world  like  a  great  witch-flower 
unfold.  Content,  I  sit  with  her  I  love,  at  dusk,  tying  my 
soft  feather-flies  just  as  I  tied  them  for  Sir  William  in  the 
golden  time.  The  trout  have  nothing  changed,  nor  I,  though 
kings  already  live  as  legends. 

Bitter-sweet  on  porch  and  paling,  woodbine  and  white- 
starred  clematis,  and  the  deep  hum  of  bees;  and  in  the  sun 
lit  garden  poppies,  red  as  the  blood  of  martyrs.  Then  moon 
light  and  my  dear  wife  at  the  door. 

Betty,  she  hath  cradled  our  tot,  Felicity,  to  croon  some 
soft  charm  of  Southern  sorcery,  whereby  sleep  settles  like 
gray  dusk-moths  on  tired  lids. 

But  for  the  boy,  William,  it  serves  not,  and  he  defies  us 
with  his  wooden  gun,  declaiming  that  a  man  whose  grandsire 
died  with  Wolfe  will  not  be  taken  off  to  bed  at  such  an  hour. 
And  so  my  sweetheart  cradles  him,  unheeding  my  stern  hint 
of  rods  a-pickle  for  the  wilful ;  and,  in  the  moonlight,  joining 
my  fish-rod,  I  hear  her  from  the  nursery,  singing  the  song  of 
blessed  days  departed,  yet  with  each  dawn  renewed : 

"  For  courts  are  full  of  flattery, 
As  hath  too  oft  been  tried; 
The  city  full  of  wantonness, 
And  both  be  full  of  Pride: 

Then  care  away, 
And  wend  along  with  me!" 

"  I  know  a  trout,"  quoth  Jack  Mount,  taking  his  cob-pipe 
from  his  teeth,  "a  monstrous  huge  one,  lad,  haid  by  the 
thunder-stricken  hemlock  where  the  Kennyetto  turns  upon 

512 


CARDIGAN 

itself.     Shemuel  did  mark  the  fish,  sleeping  at  noon  three 
days  since." 

"  Bring  Cade  along,"  said  I,  opening  the  garden  gate,  and 
gathering  my  rod  and  line  lest  the  fly-hook  catch  in  the  rose 
bush  ;  "  and  fetch  the  gaff,  Jack,  when  you  return." 

But  when  he  came  again  into  the  moonlit  garden  he  came 
alone,  swinging  the  bright  steel  gaff. 

"  Cade  sleeps  by  the  fire  in  the  great  hall,"  he  said.  "  Truly, 
lad,  we  age  apace,  and  the  sly  beast,  Death,  follows  us,  sniff 
ing,  as  we  go.  Lord !  Lord !  How  old  we  grow — how  old, 
how  old!  All  of  us,  save  Lady  Cardigan  and  you!  Years 
freshen  her." 

"  The  years  are  kind,"  I  said. 

So  we  descended  through  the  dusk  to  the  sweet  water  flow 
ing  under  the  clustered  stars. 
2K 


BY   EGBERT  W.  CHAMBERS 


THE  CONSPIRATORS.    Illustrated.    Post 
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Conspirators " ;  the  rollicking  spirits  of  the  hero, 
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ardor  in  love  is  delightfully  romantic. —  Chicago 
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KIT  KENNEDY— COUNTRY  BOY.     Illustrated  by 
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THE   GRAY   MAN.     A  Novel.     Illustrated  by  SET- 
MOUR  LUCAS,  R.A. 

A  strong  book,  .  .  .  masterly  in  its  portrayals  of  character  and 
historic  events. — Boston  Congreyationalist. 

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